Cherchez pour trouver
by Queen Gwenyvere
Summary: Chapter 10 PART TWO up! Spoilers up through "New Order"! Just when they thought things couldn't get any worse, Thor comes calling. After he knocks out the power, he has news that could mean dire consequences for Sam. REVIEW!
1. Prologue: Pain

Pain. There was nothing but pain. It was everywhere. It enveloped her body, her mind, her soul. It came from her very core and her only coherent thought was that there was nothing she could do to stop it. She was being split apart from the inside out and she was helpless. The pain rolled through her like the ocean at high tide, the waves crashing against her, then rolling out, but never receding, as furiously as they had come.  
  
She was only vaguely aware of the voices and the flurry of motion that surrounded her. It seemed as though it was all happening in a world of molasses that inched slowly by, outside her pain-filled universe.  
  
Pain stabbed at her being once more and she thought she arched her back. Did she cry out? Was that the sound of her own voice she heard? It sounded like a wail, such an anguished cry, like that of an animal howling over the death of its mate. Her heavy, pain filled limbs struck out at the air around her. The air that separated her universe of pain and the world of molasses just outside her grasp. It seemed electric and shocked her so that she thought she instantly became still again.  
  
She had tried fighting against the pain from the minute she'd felt it, but it had been useless. It was pain such as she had never experienced. Mind numbing, soul crunching, bone jarring, thought stealing, life erasing pain.  
  
Then, a gentle, calloused hand, butterfly soft, touched her cheek, stroking her sweat drenched skin, while another slowly began caressing her arm, and in those places, she felt no pain. What kind of balm was this? Where was it coming from. Who did those hands belong to?  
  
In her ear, she heard a voice, soothing, and yet rough and whispery. "...be alright....promise....hang....please....need....you...please..."  
  
Another pain slammed her body and she though she cried out again. The voice, indistinguishable, stopped, but the hand on her arm remained, then moved to clutch her hand. The hand that had been stroking her cheek moved to her forehead, where she felt it smoothing back her matted, sweat-drenched hair. As a child, or maybe in a dream, at this point she cannot remember, she used to love when her mother played with her hair. It was much longer then. Her mother would brush it for hours, humming softly, braiding corn silk.   
  
The pain was nonstop now. In the endlessness of it all, she briefly felt as though her body were being sucked into the depths of hell or heaven, she was not sure. It was though someone had taken the stopper from a tub drain, and she was the water, being sucked into the pipes to be ferreted away to places unknown and unreachable.  
  
Then, she was aware of being delivered from the depths, into another combination of the pain universe surrounded by electric air and molasses world. There were hands everywhere now, all over her, but the gentle hand never left hers. She thought she might be clinging to it desperately, and briefly hoped she wasn't hurting who ever the hand belonged to. The other hands rolled her, and she screamed, and a minute later...  
  
...Nothing.  
  
The pain began to ebb and wane, and was replaced by nothingness. Her universe of pain had disappeared and she had been sucked into the world of molasses. She felt weightless, briefly, as though she were floating or flying, and then, despite her numbness, she knew she was on solid ground again.  
  
Where had the pain gone? Why had it stopped? The nothingness was blissful and a relief, but the pain had stopped so instantaneously. And where was the hand? She couldn't feel the hand. Where had it gone? Come back! I need you! she wanted to yell, but found her mouth unresponsive, her tongue lead.  
  
Desperately searching for the balm that had stilled her pain in those small places, she tried to open her eyes, but met resistance. Open! she willed them. Open, dammit!  
  
Determinedly, she thought she got her head to move to one side, She felt it roll. She had! Did it roll right off the table?   
  
"...aaaaahmmmmm?"  
  
She moaned and tried again to open her eyes.  
  
The hand! There it was. Again on her forehead, smoothing back her hair. She thought she felt herself smile.  
  
"Aaaaaaaahpeeeeeeehn yoooooooowerrrrrrrre aaaaaaaaaaayeeeees..."   
  
It was the same voice that she had heard before, in her ear, but it was clearer this time. More insistent. More forceful. More....frightened?  
  
"Jack." It was a strangled, raspy, choked sound, barely audible.  
  
Had she said that? Was it her voice that had just spoken?   
  
Jack. She remembered that name. Jack. Who.....the hand!! The hand's name was Jack. No, that wasn't right...  
  
Hand. Arm. Shoulder. Collarbone. Throat. Neck. Chin. Lips. Nose. Cheeks. Graying hair. Searching eyes. Jack!   
  
"Jack?" She tried again, forcing her leaden tongue to work.  
  
"Sam?"  
  
Jack! Jack where are you? I can't see you? Where am I? Am I dead? Why can't I feel anything. Where did the pain go?  
  
"Samantha, open your eyes. Open your eyes for me Sam. Please." Jack. Jack's voice. Jack's voice. Voice scared. Voice tremulous. Voice strong. Jack's voice.  
  
"Sleep..." Sleep? Who had said that? Had she said that? She must have. She was so tired. The nothingness and the pain were calling to her, begging her to give in to unconsciousness.  
  
Another voice talked at Jack, but she couldn't understand it.  
  
"Don't sleep, Sam," Jack insisted. "That's an order." She knew that tone. It was the tone of voice he used when he was trying to be funny so she wouldn't be scared. So he wouldn't be scared. Why was he scared?  
  
"Jack....scared..."  
  
"Don't be scared, Sam. I'm here. Open your eyes."  
  
"You....scared....?"  
  
His hand stopped tangling itself in her hair and she felt his lips brush close to her ear. If she could, she was sure she would have shivered.  
  
"Yes Sam, I'm very scared. I need you to fight. Can you fight, please Sam. Fight hard. Open your eyes. Look at me, Samantha. Please."  
  
Open, eyes. Jack's asking. He wants to see you. He can't see you if you don't open your eyes. Open, eyes!  
  
There was light, and it was blinding and there was pain, quickly, and she moaned.  
  
"Sam?"  
  
"Jack." She forced her eyes to focus. The pain from the light slowly left, as the brightness became a blur, and the blur became shapes and colors, and the shapes and colors became a face.  
  
"Jack," she said, tiredly, happily.  
  
"Hi there." He smiled, big, wide, teeth baring.  
  
"Jack."  
  
"Yes Sam. It's me. You've gotta stay with me, ok? I need you to keep looking in my eyes, ok?"  
  
"Order....sir?" she asked, wondering if she sounded half teasing, because that is what she'd intended.  
  
He smiled, and she thought she saw tears in his eyes, but it could have been the light. "Yes, that's an order."  
  
"Kay..." She murmured, her tongue feeling like a million particles of sawdust and a million balls of cotton.  
  
She looked into his eyes, and she saw his gaze leave her face briefly and meet the eyes of someone she couldn't see. She wanted to ask what was going on, but couldn't.  
  
"Look at me, Sam," he urged, fingers playing with her hair again.  
  
So she looked at him. As she looked at him, through the numbness, she gasped, feeling a strange pulling sensation. She was being stretched, she was sure of it.  
  
"Hang in there," he whispered.  
  
Her eyes remained open, but his concerned face quickly dissolved into a million memories.  
  
**FLASH**  
  
_--I will always be there for you, no matter what. Believe me. Go save your ass._

Stretching. Ripping. Gurgling sounds. Clatter. More pulling and stretching. Gasping.  
  
**FLASH**  
  
_--I just wanted to say when you were lying there I--I'm really glad you're okay.  
  
--C'mere_

Pressure. So much pressure. Empty. Pressure and empty. Pulling. Stretching. Pulling and stretching. Pressure and empty and pulling and stretching.  
  
**FLASH  
**  
_--You made it through. You're gonna be all right._

___  
_"Stay with me, Sam."  
  
**FLASH  
**  
_--Sir, at your house before Daniel and Teal'c showed up, what I was gonna say was ...   
  
--I know._

Jack. Jack's eyes. Tears. Noise. Distant sound. Far off crying?  
  
**FLASH  
**  
_--Don't you dare leave us now. We won. Please, Jack. _

"Please Jack..." Tired. She was so tired. She felt her eyes closing.  
  
"Sam, no! Sam? Don't do this Sam, stay with me....Sam!"  
  
"Sorry...sir...Jack....sleep..."  
  
The last thing she heard before the nothingness completely overtook her was the sound of distant crying. The last thing felt was Jack's lips against her temple. A moment later...  
  
...Nothing. 


	2. Chapter One: You Need That JellO Healing

**_Disclaimer:_** Stargate SG-1 and its characters do not belong to me. They are property of the writers, producers, SciFi, etc. The only thing I own is this story and any original plot/dialogue contained here in.  
  
**_Summary/Spoilers_**: Post Lost City, part 2. Kinda AU. Potential spoilers for everything up through and including "Lost City" and possible borrowing of the limited spoilers I have read for Season 8.   
  
**_Author's Notes:_** Thank you to everyone who reviewed the Prologue. It was great to see the response this fic generated. It's been a really long time since I wrote anything to be posted here on ff.net. I know the prologue was kinda cryptic and poetic, but that was done on purpose. I left it purposely vague too, as to what was happening to Sam, but I promise I know exactly what was going on, and I'll let you all in on it in time. Thanks to Marcisgate for betaing! Enjoy Chapter one!

It had started officially neither with a bang or a whimper, nor with a kiss or passionate embrace, but with Jell-O. Not Mess hall, space program generic jell-o either, but with real, honest to god, Bill Cosby-endorsed Jell-O gelatin.   
  
Of course, the kissing and passionate embracing soon followed.  
  
But it all started with Jell-O.  
  
She had searched tirelessly for months for a way to free him. They all had. Teal'c had returned to Chulak and beyond in search of answers while she and Daniel had burned the midnight oil until Dr. Weir threatened her with a court marshal and him with expulsion from the program. After that they dropped back to 20 hours a day.  
  
After a month, they brought in Jacob to reason with her. Selmak had even made her presence known and expressed her thoughts on the matter. The Tok'ra were sympathetic to their plight. In the beginning, they'd agreed to help their Tauri Allies find a way to free Colonel O'Neill, but after trying everything they could think of, including trying to modify their sarcophagus, to no avail, they gave up. They mourned O'Neill as though he had died in battle. Most did. Dr. Weir and General Hammond had wanted to have a memorial service, but Sam and Daniel and Teal'c had insisted no--Jack was alive, somewhere, somehow, in that block of impenetrable ice and whatever other compound it was comprised of.  
  
After three months, General Hammond and Dr. Weir had assumed joint command of the SGC, and SG-1 was considered on "special assignment", as Teal'c was off world and Sam and Daniel were still throwing themselves headlong into finding a cure for Jack. They traveled to numerous Ancient outposts, via the Prometheus or the Stargate but never found themselves any closer to defrosting Jack.  
  
After five months, Daniel came to her and tried to talk her into calling it quits. They had devoted nearly half a year to this, and Colonel O'Neill was no closer to returning to his former self then he had from the moment he'd stuck his head in the Ancients' device. She fought him bitterly, and he agreed to devote another month to this, but that was it. After that, they would have to accept it--Jack was gone, never to return. Teal'c returned from his travels, reporting that he too had been unsuccessful. They received a message from Jonas Quinn, expressing his sympathy and regret, asking if they had thought of using naquadria as a means of restoring him. They replied that they had, unsuccessfully, and would keep him apprised of further developments.  
  
At six months, after much argument, Sam reluctantly ended her search of Jack's cure. She locked all her research into four sets of file cabinets, locked them away in a storage room on the base, and readied herself in dress blues for the Colonel's memorial service. His "remains", as everyone began calling them, were going to be kept cryogenically on base, sealed. "As good as dead and buried," Sam had thought bitterly as she trudged through the halls of the underground complex, feeling an astonishing sense of deja vu--she had attended Janet's memorial nearly a year earlier, and the pain from that, still fresh, mixed with the undiminishing pain she felt towards what had happened to Jack--to the Colonel.   
  
As his Second, she had been expected to speak at the service, just as she had at Janet's. Daniel and Teal'c and General Hammond spoke first. Cassandra was there, her eyes seemingly dull and lifeless, swollen and puffy with tears. Within a matter of months, the young woman had lost her mother and the closest thing to a father she had ever known. Sam had taken her in, as best she could working around the clock. During the months she'd spent searching for O'Neill's cure, Sam had realized that, in not dealing with her own grief, for both Janet and the Colonel, she hadn't helped Cassie deal with hers, either.  
  
After the memorial, Sam was promoted to Colonel and given command of SG-1. Along with her promotion came a month of downtime, after which SG-1 would resume its duties, comprised of Sam, Daniel, Teal'c, and a fourth member she would select from a list of candidates.  
  
Teal'c went to serve with Bra'tac--to keep himself agile and battle ready, he said. Daniel joked that even Teal'c had gotten his fill of Kel'noreem.  
  
Daniel decided to travel. He went first to Egypt, his old haunt, before moving on to Greece, Italy, and the UK, throwing himself into further research of the Roman and Greek gods and the Celtic Druids, trying to find some correlation between them and the false-gods the Goa'uld had inflicted upon the Egyptians. He promised to control himself and be back in a month. "Really, Sam, this is a vacation for me," he said, his tired eyes holding the barest hint of mischief.  
  
"I know," she'd replied good-naturedly, as she packed some of her belongings from her quarters at the base. She was leaving her cell phone and pager and taking Cassie and Jack's truck up north to his cabin.  
  
"You're going fishing?" Daniel asked bemused. He knew how many times Jack had tried getting them all to go on an SG-1 bonding/fishing trip thing. Sam had always refused. For her refusal, Jack had tried getting her to agree to a one on one fishing trip. Which, by extension, presented an entire other issue about which Daniel kept to himself, mostly.  
  
"It seems," she began, meeting his eyes for the first time that day, "appropriate. Cassie needs me. I haven't been very good to her."  
  
"You've done your best," Daniel insisted. "I know she understands. We didn't forsake her after Janet...after she died. We were there for her."  
  
"Were we? Or did we hide from our grief by throwing ourselves into mission after mission, determined to find the Lost City of the Ancients?"  
  
"We were there for her as much as we could be," Daniel insisted. "She knows that. You and Jack tried harder than any of us to comfort her."  
  
Sam's piercing gaze held his, "And now she's lost him too. I'm all she has left, Daniel."  
  
He crossed the room and took her hand in his, stilling her stiff, mechanical mode of packing. "No you're not. She has us. And so do you. You're not alone, Sam."  
  
She felt tears welling up in her eyes. "I know, Daniel." She withdrew her hand from his and turned her back, rummaging through a drawer so that he would not see her tears.  
  
"Do you?" He prodded, gently. "These last six months you've been devoted to finding a cure for Jack as though your own life depended on it."  
  
"I miss him, Daniel!" Sam yelled, spinning around angrily. "Why is that so difficult to understand? Everyone's acting like he's dead. He's not dead. He's somewhere, inside that block of ice, waiting for us to rescue him!" The tears began to fall now, unbidden. "How could you agree to stop, Daniel? He never would have! He would have kept searching and searching until he found us. He wouldn't have..."  
  
"Given up?" He finished for her. "We didn't give up Sam. We did our best. _You_ did your best. We didn't leave him behind." He walked around the table and took her, weeping, into his arms. "I miss him too," he whispered, crushing to him the woman he had come to love as though she were family.   
  
In his embrace, the embrace of her friend, colleague, and brother, Sam began to allow herself to grieve. She wept openly, unabashedly, clinging to Daniel. There was so much she wanted to talk about, but couldn't. She knew that, to the impartial observer, she was overly upset at the loss of her C.O., no matter how close her unit had become. But it was unspoken among the members of SG-1, her family, what she and Jack had shared. Did share. They hardly spoke of it, but Sam knew that the feelings she and Jack thought they kept closely guarded did not go unnoticed by Teal'c and Daniel.  
  
Sam didn't know how long they stood like that, mutually holding each other, grieving. When they finally did part, Daniel smiled at her sadly, brushed a tear from her cheek, and murmured, "Enjoy your trip, Sam."  
  
"You too," she replied in a teary voice. "Be safe. That's an order."  
  
He grinned. "Yes ma'am."  
  
She and Cassie reached Jack's cabin later that afternoon. It was musty from being shut up so long. They busied themselves the rest of that day, airing out the place, cleaning and stocking the fridge with the groceries they'd picked up at the nearby general store. Cassie's movements were slow, mechanical, their conversation light, basic. A few times, Sam had tried opening up some sort of larger dialogue, but Cassie would only respond with enough words necessary to adequately answer. No more, no less.  
  
Sam considered giving her a little push, like Daniel had with her, but ultimately decided against it. She was barely 18 and had lost so much in such a short time. Their time at the cabin was for healing and renewal, and Sam was going to let Cassie's happen at whatever pace she needed. The most Sam said was one night as they were preparing for bed, "Cassie..I know this last year has been really hard for you. And I know I haven't been here for you like I should have. But I am now. So if you need to talk, or anything, anytime...I'm here."  
  
Cassie paused in the doorway to her bedroom. Her sad eyes met Sam's. "I know Sam. I just...I don't know. It's hard. I miss them."  
  
"Me too." It seemed that that was all they would speak of it this evening. Sam offered the girl a reassuring smile. "Goodnight, Cassie."  
  
"Goodnight," her niece replied. "Oh, and Sam?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I'm here too. For you, I mean."  
  
Sam smiled gratefully. "I know. It means a lot."  
  
There were two bedrooms in Jack's cabin. Cassie had taken the smaller one, leaving Sam the bedroom that had belonged to Jack. It had been hard the first few nights, being in his house, eating from his dishes, sleeping in his room. There were some clothes in the closet that she could not bring herself to remove, but instead merely moved them aside to make room for her own. She placed some things in the drawers of his dresser as well, but didn't remove anything. She wanted to leave it as close to how he had left it as possible.  
  
Sleeping in his bed the first night had been an overwhelming experience. Although he had not been to the cabin in some time, the bed still smelled like him, the blankets and pillows still smelling faintly of sweat and after shave and everything else that smelled exactly like Jack O'Neill. The moment her head had touched his pillow, she'd begun to weep softly, as not to wake Cassandra. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more, sir," she whispered into the darkness. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you, Jack."  
  
She hardly ever called him Jack. In the eight years they'd known each other, she had probably addressed him by his first name a dozen times at most. Sir. Colonel. Never Jack. Hardly ever Jack. She was always Carter to him. First Captain, then Major. She wondered if she would have gotten her latest promotion had he not...  
  
She couldn't say died. He wasn't dead. He wasn't. He was alive, in there somewhere, somehow.  
  
Every night after the first one, Sam slept in one of Jack's flannel shirts and a pair of his sweat pants. Every morning she woke to find herself wrapped around one of his pillows, hugging it. By day, she and Cassie would eat, hike, sunbathe, swim in the lake. Once a week they slept under the stars. And, once a day, they would fish.  
  
They had been at the cabin for two weeks when Sam was awakened one night by noises coming from the kitchen. She frowned, thinking it odd that Cassandra was looking for a midnight snack. The girl wasn't what one would call a voracious eater, and she rarely ate after the hour of nine, except for the occasional ice cream binge.  
  
Sam threw back the covers and climbed out of bed, padding barefoot to the door. Cracking it open, she noticed Cassandra's door was a jar. "I guess she is hungry," Sam thought, walking down the hall towards the light coming from the kitchen.  
  
"Cassie, you ok?" She called. "What's the matter," she chided as she stepped into the kitchen. "Is my cooking not good enough for yo--"  
  
She stopped in her tracks when she saw what was on the kitchen table. A six pack of Jell-O snack cups. Attached was a post-it note on which was scrawled in an eerily familiar handwriting: _Didn't think you'd remembered to stock up on these.  
_  
Then, behind her, she heard a familiar voice murmur, "Hi, Sam." 


	3. Chapter 2:Kisses and Passionate Embraces

**_Disclaimer:_** Stargate SG-1 and its characters do not belong to me. They are property of the writers, producers, SciFi, etc. The only thing I own is this story and any original plot/dialogue contained here in.  
  
**_Summary/Spoilers:_** Post Lost City, part 2. Kinda AU. Potential spoilers for everything up through and including "Lost City", and possible borrowing of the limited spoilers I have read for Season 8.   
  
**_Author's Notes:_** Props to Macisgate for betaing another chapter. Without her, ya'll would think I was illiterate, I swear. =p Ok, second order of business. I'm surprised you guys haven't figured out what's going on with Sam in the prologue. It's written kinda funny, but the basic idea itself is fairly unoriginal. EVERYONE has written Sam doing that at some point or another in Sam/Jack fics. No not that! The other thing! LOL I'm glad everyone likes my humor--believe me there's more of it to come. I generally put the lines I find the most amusing in the summary every time I post a new chapter. Ok, enough babbling--on with the show!

"Hi Sam."  
  
Oh god. The voice behind her. Warm. Affectionate. Strong. Tremulous. Good-natured. Jovial. Sarcastic. Gruff. Gentle.  
  
Oh god. She would not turn around. She just held her breath and stared at the Jell-O. Multi-pack. Six flavors. With a trembling hand, she reached out and picked it up. She ran her quivering fingers over the cool, smooth plastic.  
  
"I couldn't remember your favorite, so I," she heard him shrug, "brought all of them."  
  
She chuckled. Slightly. She was still in shock.  
  
"I mean, I would have brought you a cake, but the 7-11 only had those mini Hostess ones."  
  
Silence. Not even a ticking clock. All the clocks in his house were digital.  
  
"Carter?" The voice was more cautious now, less sarcastic and self-assured.  
  
At the sound of her name, at his name for her, she thought her knees would give out. If this had been a movie, she would have fainted.  
  
If this was a movie…  
  
It seemed to be.  
  
The man she loved but could not have was standing behind her, virtually back from the dead. Wait, not dead. Not dead! Asleep.  
  
Jesus Christ on a crouton. She was in a very special episode of The Twilight Zone written by Romeo and Juliet. She was dreaming. That had to be it. She was dreaming, still sound asleep in Jack's bed, and in a minute she would wake up, or the Jell-O would start singing and dancing, or Teal'c would come prancing in dressed as a banana singing "I've Got a Loverly Bunch of Coconuts."  
  
She waited. But the Jell-O did neither sing nor dance, and Teal'c remained on a planet far, far away, his banana costume and questionable singing ability (and penchant for strange Earth songs) hidden away for another day.  
  
"Look at me," the voice commanded softly but unyielding.  
  
Releasing the breath she had been holding, she closed her eyes and turned to face the voice.  
  
"Open your eyes," the voice pleaded quietly. "Sam, please."  
  
Slowly, lashes fluttering, heart racing, breath coming at a controlled rate of slowness, her eyes opened. Blue eyes met brown. His eyes looked moist, as though he were holding back tears, but she could have been imagining things. She still wasn't completely convinced she wasn't imagining the site before her.  
  
Her eyes raked down his body. No jacket. Regulation drab khaki/olive-toned T-shirt and olive pants. Black belt and boots. His hands kept clenching nervously into fists then releasing. She followed his arms to his shoulders, taking in the curve and shape of his collarbone, admiring his neck as it rose out from the collar of his shirt.  
  
Silently, almost reverently, she took in his face. Chin. Lips. Nose. Cheeks. Graying hair. Searching, hopeful, worried, tired, mischievous eyes.  
  
"Hi," he said again, the corners of his mouth turning upwards slightly as though he couldn't help but appreciate that she was drinking him in.  
  
"Hi," she replied, her voice shaky. Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly a few times, and she flushed, embarrassed at finding herself at a loss for words. "I--I don't....how....what..."  
  
"Sam," he said, gently interrupting her. "C'mere." He opened his arms to her, welcoming her, inviting her to find the comfort and solace she'd been seeking for six months, eight years, longer. His invitation broke something in her, and her shocked haze melted apparently as easily as he had. His gaze held a million explanations and as many promises as there were stars, and for once, she believed he would keep them. He smiled reassuringly, and it was all she needed. She crossed the distance between them in a few steps, and when she arrived in the safe haven of his arms, she felt as though it had taken her years to get there instead of mere seconds.  
  
She was in his arms then, wrapped in them, protected. She buried her face in his shoulder, breathing in his scent. It was the same as she'd been wrapping around herself every night. It was then that she realized two things--that he had been preserved in the Ancients' ice block as though no time had passed, and that he had come directly from the base. The stubble on his face scratched her skin, but she welcomed the sensation.  
  
He clutched her tightly to him, with more force than he ever had held her before. One of his hands was fisted in her hair, his fingers splaying against her scalp. He played with the hair at her nape and she shivered uncontrollably.  
  
She then realized that she was weeping. And so was he. Soft tears dampened her shoulder as he buried his face in her hair. She felt his lips lightly graze her temple and then the sensitive spot behind her ear before he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. She could feel his breath, warm and moist, against her skin. His chest rose and fell against her as he breathed.  
  
They stood there for a long time, holding each other, softly crying. She did not sob uncontrollably like a hysterical teenager but rather basked in being surrounded by him, feeling his heart beat, and letting her emotions wash over her. Her grief, which had been diminishing little by little, disappeared like the side of a cliff falling into the sea. It was replaced by shock and joy, happiness and trepidation, relief and contentment.  
  
Reluctantly, she pulled away from him but only enough to look at him again. His cheeks were damp and tear stained, his eyes glistening. He took her face in his hands and gently wiped her tears with the pads of his thumbs. Unable to resist the urge, she slightly nuzzled his palm, resting her cheek in his hand. He smiled, and so did she.   
  
"You're here," she murmured, unable to say anything else.  
  
"So are you. And Cassie, I'm told," he replied, his thumb stroking that spot behind her ear. Damn. How had he known it was there? That it would both soothe and thrill her so?  
  
She frowned. "How…? I still don't....I mean, you're here. How?" She straightened up, her analytical mind overpowering everything else. "We tried for months, tried everything. Nothing ever worked. We tried naquadria, the sarcophagus, we contacted Thor, we tried blasting you out with a zat and Teal'c's staff. I don't understand. Nothing worked." She was pacing now, and he let her, knowing she had to get some of it out of her system.  
  
She stopped dead in her tracks. The intense grief in her gaze both saddened and frightened him. "We had a memorial service for you. I mean, Daniel and I spent months, but then....there was just nothing…" She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "We as good as buried you. We mourned you."  
  
"I know," he said softly, unsure of what else to say.  
  
"So then how are you here?" She asked, her tone so simple and direct and without hope that he realized she still might think she was dreaming.  
  
He shrugged. "I don't know, really. I just woke up about three days ago, cold as hell."  
  
Her eyes bulged, "You just…woke up?? That's it?"  
  
He nodded, "As far as Daniel figures, the chamber kept me in stasis until I was completely healed, then it released me."  
  
"Healed?" She asked wondrously.   
  
Jack smiled, "No more crazy-talking Jack." He frowned. "You know what I mean." He was rewarded with her smile. "I still have all that Ancient crap in my head, but it's not killing me anymore."  
  
Her eyes widened. "Sir, that's amazing! The possibilities now of what that information could do for us are endless. Why, we could--"  
  
"Carter!" He raised his voice, holing up a hand to silence her. He realized he'd used his field name for her when she'd called him "sir." "Sit." She sat, inwardly pleased at hearing his command tone again. "No shop talk, ok? I've been back for like, a minute, and you're already going all gung-ho Science Gal." He paused, smiling, "And what's with the 'sir'? I resigned remember? Plus, I hear congratulations are in order, _Colonel _Carter."  
  
She blushed, "Thank you, sir."  
  
"Jack," he corrected. "Call me Jack." He took a step towards her. "Like you did at the outpost right before…"  
  
"Before we put you in the Dormata," she finished quietly. "I wish there had been another way.."  
  
"There wasn't," he said decisively. "What's happened has happened. Let's leave it at that. We're here now." He crouched in front of her, his hands taking hers, bringing them to rest on her knees. "I love what you've done with the place." He eyed her attire. "Nice look by the way. I didn't know you shopped at O'Neill's House of Plaid."  
  
She looked down at what she was wearing, her eyes bulging in shock and embarrassment. She stammered for an explanation. "Well, I was---you see we haven't…oh _hell_," she finished, seeing an amused grin spread across his face.   
  
"Don't sweat it," he said. "Looks better on you anyway." He raised his eyebrows suggestively, deepening her flush.  
  
She took a hand from his and laid it alongside his face. "So what happens now?"  
  
He shook his head slightly, not wanting to disturb her touch. "I don't know. I've resigned, but Hammond doesn't have it in writing, so he offered me my job back. Except now we've already got a Colonel, so he said he'd make me a General. He's retiring finally. I guess he wants to spend more time with his grand kids or something. "  
  
Sam smiled, "Oh that's wonderful! Congratulations, Jack!" She hugged him impulsively then withdrew stiffly, realizing that that meant he was once again her CO.  
  
"Don't," he whispered, gripping her hands. "Please. I don't think I could take it."  
  
"But, Jack, sir, now you're--"  
  
"No," he cut her off. "I swear to _God_, Sam, if the word 'regulations' comes out of your mouth I'm going to....tie you to a chair and make you watch nothing but The Simpsons for the next two weeks!"  
  
Smiling slightly, she leaned forward and rested her forehead against his. "Then I guess my question remains: What happens now? You're running the SGC, I'm in command of SG-1…that doesn't exactly abide by the--"  
  
"Sam," he warned.  
  
"_Rules_," she finished, a twinkle in her eye.  
  
"Fuck the rules," he replied. "We've saved the planet, hell, the whole goddamned universe enough times, I figure they owe us one or a hundred."  
  
"I wonder if the President will see it that way," she said, a trace of sadness in her voice.  
  
"Sam," Jack said, taking her face in his hands again. "We've been skirting this for eight years. I just spent six months in a block of ice getting my system reworked and my brain rewired. And we saved the universe. Again. Some more. He owes me one, and he knows it." He pressed his lips to hers chastely before finishing. "It'll be ok."  
  
If promises were stars…  
  
But this time she knew they were, and he would keep them. He got off his knees and moved to sit beside her on the couch, pulling her into his arms.  
  
She rested her head on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around her. "Cassie will be over the moon to see you. She took what happened to you really hard."  
  
"Poor kid," he said. "She's had to deal with a lot, hasn't she?"  
  
Sam nodded. "Do you want to go see her now? I'm sure she wouldn't mind the wake up call."  
  
Jack shook his head. "Let her sleep."  
  
At the moment, Sam yawned abruptly. "Right on cue," she thought ruefully.  
  
"Speaking of which…"  
  
"I'm fine." She was exhausted, but at this point she didn't care. She felt as thought she'd just taken a huge turning point in her life. She didn't know what it was or where it was taking her, but she decided to go with the flow. For once.  
  
"No you're not. It's 3 o'clock in the morning. Let's get you back in bed." He slapped his knees, having made his decision, and rose, pulling her to her feet.  
  
"I've been sleeping in your room," she said softly, trepidatiously, as though uncertain of what their next move would be. There was so much history between them, so much trust, and yet so much uncertainty laid before them.  
  
"I know," he replied and lead her out of the living room, turning off the lights as they went. They padded silently down the short hall as not to wake Cassie. When they reached his door, Sam stopped and squeezed his hand. He turned to look at her and saw her eyes full of so many questions he didn't know if he could answer. He knew he hadn't really answered "What happens now?" It was because he didn't know. All he knew was that they had been given another chance, possibly their last chance, and he wasn't going to let the galaxy or the frickin' regulations screw it up.   
  
"Come to bed, Sam," he said softly, pulling her into his room and shutting the door quietly behind them. 

_Yeah yeah yeah I know I'm evil. So, did you buy my explanation of Jack waking up? If not, fear not, I'll get into further detail next chapter. Review!! It's my heroin!_


	4. Ch3: More Kisses and Passionate Embraces

**_Disclaimer:_** Stargate SG-1 and its characters do not belong to me. They are property of the writers, producers, SciFi, etc. The only thing I own is this story and any original plot/dialogue contained here in.  
  
**_Summary/Spoilers:_** Post Lost City, part 2. Kinda AU. Potential spoilers for everything up through and including "Lost City", and possible borrowing of the limited spoilers I have read for Season 8.   
  
**_Author's Notes:_** I hope this explains some of the questions the last chapter raised. I know Jack's "fuck the rules" motto wasn't going to be well received by everyone. I hope this explains it a little better. Believe me, I agree, the regs are a HUGE part of what Sam and Jack believe in and they are not to be taken lightly, or acted as though they don't exist. There are consequences, trust me. Also, you're probably learning I NEVER resolve a chapter. It always has to lead into the next one. This on is no different. You've been warned!

"Come to bed, Sam."  
  
She had not heard four scarier words. Her brain, usually so active, so sharp, was failing her. She was having a hard time processing what was happening. She was in Jack's room at Jack's cabin with Jack, who she had just begun allowing herself to grieve. She was wearing his clothes, holding his hand. He had just promised her the universe. He may as well have. "The President owes us one." But did that mean the President was going to pay up? She didn't necessarily disagree, but that wasn't the point. They had built their lives, both separately and together, around the military. Hell, she'd been raised in it. They had fought--and died--for everything the military espoused.  
  
After eight years of smiles and "yes sir"s and stopping only at friends and colleagues, 2IC to CO, denying themselves, torturing themselves, all in the name of the greater good--could they so easily throw that all away? He had been in her heart and in her head for so long. But she had finally accepted that they could never be. She had been mourning him, accepting that she was now going to live her life without him. Now he was back, and although she believed he would do everything in his power to keep his promises, she wondered the cost.  
  
"Sam?" His voice was questioning, teasing yet worried.  
  
She realized that they were standing wordlessly next to the bed. Unsure of what else to do, she cast him a nervous glance and sat down. Slowly, he sat down beside her. They were both stiff backed, their hands folded nervously in their laps.  
  
Jack was suddenly ten years old again. He was at Shannon McPhee's birthday and they were in the closet of her parent's laundry room, the latest victims of "Seven Minutes in Heaven." For six minutes and fifty-five seconds they had stared nervously at each other. Then quickly, he'd pecked her on the lips, plastered a grin on his face so that Brian Shea wouldn't tease him or try to beat him up, and walked back to the party.  
  
Jack realized a similar approach forty years later might not be the best idea. He cast Sam a sideways glance. She was nervously twiddling her fingers, staring at them. She must have felt his gaze, because she turned to look at him.  
  
He smiled, trying to be reassuring. He could almost read the confusion and doubtful thoughts in her head. Slowly, he reached out, took her hand, and brought it to his lips, gently kissing each knuckle.  
  
"Jack..." She began.  
  
"Relax, Sam," he murmured against her hand. "I wasn't planning on seducing you tonight." Although the thought had crossed his mind, he'd decided against it. They had plenty of time to get there.  
  
Sam blushed, "No, I didn't think--"  
  
"Yeah you did," he chided. "I just want to hold you. Come on." He smiled, kissed her hand again, but this time on her palm and rose to turn down his side of the bed. He grinned when he saw his pillow was vertical instead of horizontal, as though she'd been hugging it.  
  
Sam caught his grin and blushed. She was doing a lot of that lately. It suddenly felt very warm in the room, even though the summer nights were traditionally cool, and Sam slipped off Jack's flannel shirt, revealing a thin black camisole.  
  
Jack whistled in appreciation as he stripped down to his shorts and T-shirt.  
  
"Shut up," she said with a laugh as she slid into bed, still feeling a little self-conscious. He raised his eyebrows suggestively as he slipped in beside her. They lay facing each other, a breath away. It felt good, natural, _right_, and yet Sam still couldn't help but feel as though a SWAT team was going to burst in at any moment and arrest them for treason and insubordination.  
  
Jack read the unending uncertainty in her body language and sighed. He reached out and stroked her face. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you weren't happy to see me," he teased.  
  
"No, that's not it," she insisted, shaking her head emphatically. "I am, more than you know, I promise."  
  
He waited for her to continue. "But..."   
  
She sighed, "But I can't help but wonder when it's going to end. I know you say that we're owed this, but we're probably the only ones who see it that way."  
  
"_Sam_--"  
  
"Jack," she said firmly. "You've been through a lot lately. And you've finally been made a general. I don't want you to lose that because of me."  
  
"Hey," he said, propping himself up on his elbow. "Neither one of us is going to lose anything. And if I do, it'd be worth it."  
  
"How can you say that?" She demanded, a little frightened by how committed he was to this. "You've given over thirty years of your life to the military. Can you really tell me you think I'm worth throwing all that away for?"  
  
He groaned exasperatedly and buried his head in a pillow near her shoulder. "Samantha!" He cried, bringing himself up over her. "Please trust me on this. You're worth it."  
  
"But--"  
  
"Shut up," he commanded. He brought his face within an inch of hers and his lips over hers. She opened her mouth to him slightly. He traced her lower lip with the tip of his tongue and she responded by taking his lower lip into her mouth. He closed his mouth over her upper lip and she smiled. Her mouth opened, and she took him in happily. He crushed her tightly to him, and she slowed the kiss, shutting her mouth and pressing her closed lips to his slightly parted ones. He responded at her signal that they needed oxygen. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he buried his face in her shoulder and hair, inhaling her scent. She smelled slightly of sweat and cold, but he could faintly detect a hint of sunflowers and wondered what perfume she wore.  
  
He wanted to stay like that, in her arms, or take her into his and have her rest her head against his chest, but he knew that what he was going to say to her next would be best received if she was looking him in the eyes. He pressed several considerable more chaste kisses to her throat then propped himself over her again, one hand cupping her cheek. Her chest heaved against his body as she tried to regain her breath. "Kissed her like she's never been kissed, eh old chap?" His mind teased him. He couldn't help but grin at the effect he'd had on her. Or notice the uncomfortable, yet pleasant effect she'd had on him.  
  
"Sam," he whispered in the darkness, his lips close to her ear, grazing her temple ever so slightly, causing her to shiver. "Listen to me. Very carefully." She nodded in agreement, her eyes shining with passion. He took a deep breath. "I've devoted my life to the military, and it's given me so much. But it's taken so much from me as well. I've had months of my life taken from me, been robbed of the people I love, all in the name of serving my government. And I've let it happen, grinned and bared it, and when it was over, smiled and gone on to fight another day. But I'm so tired. I had six months inside that Door Man thing to think. It's all I could do. I had time to evaluate my life. I have a great career; I mean, I've been decorated how many times now? I have the respect of my peers, and for the most part, of my government. I've saved the world a million times."  
  
She smiled at the pride in his voice. He was a brilliant soldier and an amazing man, that was for sure.  
  
He continued. "I have a great team who is like my family. But I don't have a family of my own. I did once, but I lost part of it to an unavoidable tragedy, and I lost the rest because I threw myself into my career, and the military hid me and let me self-destruct." At this, she saw the pain in his eyes at the mention of the long ago tragedy. The death of his son was still as fresh in his mind as the day it had occurred, and she wondered if part of him would forever bleed at the memory of the beloved boy. She placed a gentle hand along his scruffy cheek but said nothing.   
  
Grateful for her silent support, he went on. "The SGC gave me my life back, but not before they tried to help me end it. I know we've built our lives around the structure and discipline we were trained to love, but we're still only human. Maybe a little worse for wear, but we're still human. How can we be expected to forget that? We're not machines." He took a deep breath. "I know you were seeing Pete, and I don't really know what's going on with that now, but if you're happy with him then I will, without a fight, let things go back to the way they were. I'll let you go. But if you can't tell me that you haven't had feelings for me, that you don't now, then I think we should march right in there and demand a little slice of humanity after all we've given up to protect it."  
  
She was silent for a while, tears mixing with the passion for him her eyes still held. Her hand traveled from his cheek, down the side of his neck, till her warm hand was on his shoulder, and made light circular patterns as she worked her way to the base of his neck, where she alternately massaged his sore muscles and lightly scratched his hairline. "How can you ask me if I feel anything for you? Don't you know? Haven't you always known?" Her voice was warm, hazy, passionate, begging.  
  
Pulling him closer to her, she rolled him on his back, pressing her lips gently to his cheek bone, just below his right eye, and she fluttered her lashes a little, letting them tickle the sensitive skin around his eye. He brought a hand up to cup her face, caressing her hair and running his rough knuckles over her soft cheek. She sighed lightly, then leaned in and brushed her lips across his. Gently, he opened his mouth to her and sought access to hers with his tongue. This time, their kiss was more demanding.  
  
Her mouth and his were open the minute their lips touched and their tongues dueled, wet and silky and slow, searching the recesses of each other's mouths. Jack took control almost immediately, rolling on top of her. He placed his hand behind her thigh and pulled her leg toward him. She eagerly complied, placing her lower leg between his and throwing her upper one over the back of his thigh. His hands roamed her entire body, while hers stayed relatively in the same place, one on his neck, urging him to explore her mouth deeper, changing the angle, the other running up and down his side, lightly caressing his ribs, her fingertips silken on his bare skin. He shifted his position, resting his body weight on his left elbow, and she rose up with him, not allowing him to break the kiss.   
  
Their teeth knocked and she titled her head to gain better access. His hand traveled along her ribs, caressing the soft material of her camisole, and she waited for him to trace his fingers over the curve of her ribs and down the middle of her stomach. Instead, his hand cupped the side of her breast, and he squeezed it gently, sending waves of warmth through her body. She felt herself respond to him, and she hungrily kissed him, alternating between taking his lower lip into her mouth and plunging her tongue into his.   
  
It was too good like this. Too good to be true. But she believed him. Believed his reasons. Agreed even. He was right. She had feelings for him. So many feeling, so much emotions, she wasn't sure she could distinguish them. But it didn't matter. They _were_ owed this. They were going to make it work, in spite of the regs, in spite of their detractors, in spite of the fact that tomorrow the universe might come crashing down upon them once again.  
  
They had each other.   
  
After eight years, they finally had each other.

_Yeah yeah yeah I'm evil...Review anyway!_


	5. Chapter Four: Mesmerized

**_Author's Note_**: I know, it's been a while since I updated. I started two, count em, TWO, new jobs this week and they've kept me very busy and very tired. Here's the next part though. The first part of this comes from a random piece I wrote years ago, some of which appears in another incarnation in a General Hospital-related fic I wrote. Hope you enjoy! Thanks to Macisgate for being such a great (and prompt) beta!  
  
**_Disclaimers/Spoilers_**: See pervious chapters. Nothing's changed.   
  
He was utterly mesmerized by the sight of her sleeping. His eyes were transfixed on her lovely body as he felt it warm his own. He had been so cold, in so many ways, for so long. But she gave to his life a warmth he had never known. Remembering how he had been so cold for so long, he held her more tightly to him. He buried his face in her hair and listened to the gentle sounds of her breathing, his arms wrapped firmly and lovingly around her, feeling her breasts rise as fall rhythmically with each breath she took. He loved watching her sleep, watching her dream, blissfully unaware he was mesmerized by her. That he had always been mesmerized by her sleeping form. Whenever they'd had overnights off-world and slept without tents, he spent a portion of his watch watching her sleep. It was a ritual. He was perfectly aware of the noises going on around them, and yet he always allowed himself twenty minutes of watching her sleep.  
  
He wondered now if she could feel him holding her; feel him lightly caressing her skin virtually the entire night. He ran his fingers up and down the smooth expanse of her back, over the neck and shoulders, down her arms, across her hips and stomach. He brushed his fingers lightly over her lips and outlined the features of her face before gently dipping down to lightly kiss her shoulder and once again nuzzling his face into her neck.   
  
He couldn't believe how much he felt for her. After living his life in an emotional void for so long, keeping anything he felt bottled up and hidden away, convinced it was better to be numb than to feel, it shocked him how many emotions swelled within him at the thought of her. He had been lost, and she had found him. He had hidden, and she had searched for him, and they both knew he always had and always would do the same for her. He was amazed she had the patience to look and to fight for him for as long as she did. He was amazed how much he wanted her, needed her, how the thought of touching her made him feel things he didn't think possible.   
  
In her sleep, she sighed and rolled over, resting her head against his chest, her breath hot on his skin. She threw one arm across his stomach and waist and tucked the other underneath her body and against his. His kissed her forehead and drew her close, feeling her heartbeat in musical rhythm. He rested his chin atop her and whispered, "I never expected you to wait for me, but I'm glad you did. And now that we have this last chance, I don't want to lose you. Not again." He felt her stir slightly and wondered if she was awake.   
  
Sam came to consciousness lightly, gently, feeling happier than she had in months. What a strange, amazing, incredible dream she'd had! Jack had brought her Jell-O, they'd talked, held each other, and he'd promised her that they could be together, in spite of the regs. And then they'd made love, slowly, tenderly. "So beautiful," he'd murmured in her ear, reverently. After, she'd fallen asleep in his arms, her back pressed against his chest, his breathing in her ear, lulling her to sleep.  
  
Of course, she'd had the dream--sans the Jell-O part--a million times since she'd joined the SGC. Her heart tugged as she remember that he was gone, that she was now in command of SG-1. She sighed forlornly and opened her eyes.  
  
"Good morning, you faker," he jested, kissing her forehead. "I wondered if you were awake." His voice was light and happy, his eyes shining. Sam's eyes widened in shock. Jack laughed. "Lemme guess--you thought you were dreaming." He grinned boyishly, propped up on one elbow over her.  
  
In an instant, it all came rushing back to her. Everything she remembered about last night was real. The Jell-O. His promises.   
  
They had made love.  
  
Their first time had been quiet, languid, gentle and loving, full of exploration. It was as though they'd tried to memorize every square inch of each other's bodies, in the event it all turned out to be but a dream. He had been so tender with her, treating her as though she were glass, breakable.   
  
Sam smiled. "It was real. I know." She stifled a yawn and propped herself up so that they were looking into each other's eyes. The fact that he was here, lying beside her, wanting her, overwhelmed her. "I almost gave up," she confessed, her gaze unwavering, captivating. "I looked for your cure for so long, but it was so hard. Too hard. I thought I'd lost you. That I would never have a chance to tell you--" She smiled, silenced as he cupped her cheek with his palm and she nuzzled his warm flesh, inhaling his scent.   
  
"No more hiding," he promised, cradling her head against his shoulder. She threw a leg across his, tangling their limbs, and squeezed his waist before closing her eyes and reveling in the feel of him.  
  
"Thank you," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his bicep.  
  
He stopped running his fingers through her hair. "For what?"  
  
She shrugged drowsily, "I don't know. Last night, maybe? The last eight years?"  
  
He smiled, "Well whatever it is, you're more than welcome."  
  
They lay in silence for a while, partially unsure of what to say, mostly enjoying the feel of each other.  
  
"So what happened to you not planning to seduce me?" She asked a little while later, absently playing with the hem of the sheet in which they were tangled. She loved the feeling of being in his arms, her head resting on her shoulder, her bare back pressed against his solid chest. Part of her brain still was disbelieving, still thought there was going to be hell to pay when they returned to the real world. But the rest of her over ruled, allowing them to have at least, here, now.  
  
"_Excuse_ me?" He said innocently, feigning shock. "I believe it was _you_ who started it, Ms. Carter." He dropped a kiss to her shoulder, pulling the blanket up to cover them both.  
  
"I suppose," she admitted, with a slight shrug of her shoulders. She grinned devilishly. "It was fun."  
  
"Fun?" Jack repeated, aghast. "You and I dance around this for eight years, I spent six months doing my best imitation of a popsicle, and all you can say is '_fun_'?"  
  
Sam laughed, turning in his arms to face him. "I'm sorry, General, did I offend your delicate male ego by not posturing enough?"  
  
He arched a brow. "'Posturing', _Colonel_? That's what you call it?"  
  
"Well," she said playfully. "I could also say amazing, incredible, or mind-blowing, but I wouldn't want to inflate your ego too much."  
  
"Is that so?" He said, a gleam in his eye. "Well, I'm going to have to teach you what happens when I'm not properly inflated."   
  
Sam laughed at his choice of words, but then began scrambling to get away when she realized he was about to launch a tickle attack on her. "Jack, no! Jack! Jack! No, please! Come on, no! Jack!" She screamed with laughter as he mercilessly tickled her, tears screaming down her face.  
  
Just then, the door to her bedroom burst open, and Cassie, dressed for her traditional morning run, burst though, looking alarmed. "Sam, are you ok? I heard---oh my god." She stopped dead at the sight before her. Jack and Sam. In bed. In Jack's bed. Naked. Jack. Sam. _Jack._ Not dead, not frozen, here Jack.  
  
"Jack?" Cassie whispered in disbelief. "Oh my god. You and Sam...oh my god! You're here, alive....oh my god!" She was in shock, her voice changing from elated to horrified and confused.  
  
Jack and Sam had frozen the minute Cassie had burst through the door. They held the sheet over themselves, embarrassed at being caught, both feeling like hell that the young woman had found out this way. They had wanted to tell her another way.  
  
"Cassie," Jack began, reaching blindly for his shirt and boxers, which were somewhere in the sheets or in the immediate vicinity of the floor.  
  
"I--I---I.." Cassie stammered, her face pale, her eyes filled with tears.  
  
"Honey," Sam began, pulling the sheet up for coverage, eyes quickly spying her clothes in a pile on the floor. "Honey, we were going to tell you when you woke up."  
  
Cassie shook her head. "No, it's cool...I'm just...." Her eyes darted about frantically, as though she was an animal trapped in a cage. "I'm just....gonna go....running....I'll, uh, be back later." She wiped the tears from her eyes. Smiling weakly she said, "Welcome back, Jack," before turning quickly and dashing from the house.  
  
"Cassie!" Jack yelled after her, but she would not stop. As he pulled on his shorts and T-shirt, he watched her through the window as she ran from the cabin. "Dammit!" He hollered.  
  
"Go after her Jack," Sam said, her voice eerily calm. "She needs you."  
  
"She's in shock," Jack said, pulling his pants on.  
  
"Yeah she is," Sam agreed, getting out of bed, still nude. He stopped, briefly, awed by her beauty and by the implicit trust between them, that last night had ascended to a whole new level. As she began pulling on her own clothes, Sam said, "Jack, she's not just shocked by finding us in bed. She lost you so soon after losing her mother. It was too soon for all of us, but after your..." She couldn't say 'death'. "After what happened to you, it was like she was orphaned. God knows I wasn't there for her like I should have been. These last few weeks here have been hard. I've just been trying to give her space, hoping she'd come to me when she was ready."  
  
Fully dressed, he crossed the room, and stood before his barely dressed lover. "This is going to be hard, isn't it?"  
  
She reached out, laying a hand along his cheek. "Just be there for her. She needs you, needs to know you're real, that you're not going to leave her."  
  
He nodded. "Where would she go?"  
  
Sam paused for a moment. "She usually goes for a run around the lake, but this time...." She frowned, biting her lip, a gesture he found wildly sexy. "The bluffs. We've gone hiking there a few times. She likes it. She says it helps her think."  
  
"Okey dokey, then," he said. "The bluffs it is."  
  
"Don't let her shut you out, Jack," Sam advised. "We all shut each other out for too long. Don't let her hide within herself."  
  
"I won't," he promised, stepping in to kiss her. As their lips touched, he brought his hands up to hold her face. "I love you," he whispered, their foreheads touching.  
  
"I love you too," she replied, her eyes happy, shining, telling him all he needed to know, and more. "Now go. Find her. I'll be here waiting."  
  
"I know," he said, stealing another kiss before leaving the room. She crossed to the bedroom window and watched him jog from the cabin, heading for the bluffs. "Help them, Janet," Sam whispered prayerfully, her heart aching for her best friend. "Help them both." 


	6. Chapter Five: Grief

**_Author's Note_**: I know, it's been a ANOTHER long while since I updated. I'm still working out this whole having two and three jobs thing. I'm getting there. Okay, I just want to say that this was a VERY difficult chapter to write. It took me three days to get on paper and another hour and a half to type up. It was very draining to write, and even though the ever-fabulous Macisgate says I did well, I'm always uneasy about most things I write. Ok, so enough outta me. I don't know when the next update will be. I have like, negative time to myself to get stuff like this done, but I'm doing my best. Thanks everyone for their support.  
  
**_Disclaimers/Spoilers_**: See previous chapters. Nothing's changed. Rated 'R' for language and...adult situations, I guess.  
  
Cassie had always enjoyed running. It was the only time she ever felt truly free, free of burden, free of responsibility. Even as a child on Hanka, she had run about without a care in the world, her parents laughingly allowing her freedom until they felt it was time she'd had enough and reigned her in with the promise of more dashing about another day.  
  
_Hanka. Her parents._ The first deep loss she'd suffered. Unfortunately, it was not the last.  
  
Her career as a runner on Earth had begun her first gym class in high school. As she'd forced the girls to run laps, the gym coach apparently had noticed some special spark in Cassie and recommended her to the track coach. Not long after, she'd begun training with the Fall track team and had run Track and Field for her high school ever since. She'd run distance, sprints, relays--anything. Just so long as she could run. She loved pushing her body to its limits, feeling her heart pound, forcing herself to breathe in a tightly controlled manner.   
  
Her mother had always tried to come to every track meet but generally only ever made it to about half. But when Cassie had been given a full track scholarship to the University of Colorado, Janet Fraser had been elated. She'd taken Cassie out to dinner at a French bistro in town. She'd then promised they'd go to Lake Tahoe for vacation before Cassie went away to school in August.  
  
Cassie felt tears sting her eyes as she pushed on through the woods that surrounded the cabin. The Northern Minnesota air was crisp and clean and filled her bursting lungs. The lake lay ahead of her, beckoning brilliantly, the sunlight glinting off the still, clear waters.  
  
The day Janet had gone off world to help rescue the stranded team, Cassie had been competing in the State Track Championship in Denver. Janet had promised to be there. She'd arranged to have the day off and everything. But of course, Cassie was forced to take a back seat to matters of galactic importance. Unaware that her mother was on a mission that would cost her her life, Cassie enjoyed her pre-competition time with the girls on her team. Her track girls were like her other family outside of the SGC. Until she'd met them, Cassie had always felt like an outsider, like a little bit of a freak. To them, she was merely their friend and comrade. She'd wondered if Teal'c felt the same way about SG-1 that she felt about her track girls.  
  
Cassie vividly remembered the day her mother died. Or rather, the day she found out her mother was dead. She'd been staying in a motel with the team, a Days Inn. In-room HBO and free continental breakfast till eleven. It was strange, the things you remembered about days like that. Her roommates were Sara McCone, Danielle DiPietro, and Fran Thomas. They were getting ready for the meet when a knock came to their door.  
  
_"I'll get it!" Fran exclaimed. Peering through the peep hole, she remarked, "It's two guys."  
  
"What do they look like?" Sara asked, combing her damp hair back into a ponytail._ The spray gel she used to keep it in place smelled like honeysuckle.  
  
_Fran squinted, because the peep hole made it difficult to truly get a good look at them. "They're dressed--oh Cass, they're dressed military," she said, her voice uncertain._ It was as though she already knew the news they were about to hear.  
  
_Cassie ran to the door, her hair also damp and hanging loose around her jersey-clad shoulders._ She was barefoot, and the carpet felt itchy beneath her feet. Her heart was in her throat.  
  
_"Maybe your mom's friends came to watch," Danielle, to whom she was closest, suggested helpfully._ She had stopped putting on her wrist watch though, setting it down on the bureau and standing expectantly behind Cassie.  
  
_Peering through the hole, Cassie saw Teal'c standing patiently outside, an airman she didn't recognize beside him. "Oh no," she whispered, wrenching the door open.  
  
"Cassandra Fraser," Teal'c said, his stoic monotone belying something tragic.  
  
"No," Cassie murmured, tears filling her eyes. "NononononononoNO!" She shook her head violently in disbelief.  
  
"I am deeply sorry, Cassandra," Teal'c said, his voice gentle with sincerity and regret.  
  
"N-no," Cassie said again, whimpering. She barely registered Danielle hugging her from behind, or Sara slipping out the door to fetch the coach. "Where is she T--Murray?" Cassie cried. "Why isn't she here? Where's Jack? Why isn't Sam here? Where's Daniel?"  
  
"O'Neill was gravely injured and was in surgery when I departed from the base. MajorCarter and DanielJackson remained on base to deal with the...matters at hand." She had never seen Teal'c falter with his words before. Dimly, she wondered why he didn't just say "memorial service" or "funeral." His piercing eyes softened. "We must return, Cassandra."  
  
A sob escaped her throat and before she knew it, she was enveloped in the Jaffa's strong arms, her face buried against his chest. "Where's my mom, Teal'c?" She sobbed. "I want to see my mom!"  
_  
After that, everything was a blur. Danielle packed her things. She slept all the way back to the SGC. Sam and George greeted her and Teal'c. There were hugs. Daniel held her while she cried. Jack saw her upon his release from the Infirmary. The memorial service. Talk of moving in with Sam. Tears. Emptiness. Nothing but emptiness.  
  
She'd barely had time to recover from that when a weeping Sam had come home a few months later and told her that Jack was dead. Not dead, necessarily. Frozen. In stasis. But, for all intents and purposes, he was gone as well. Everyone she loved was leaving her, just as they always had.  
  
By the time she reached the bluffs, her lungs felt as though they were going to explode, and her muscles screamed in agony. She bent over, finally stopping, bracing her hands against her knees. She panted, her blood pounding in her ears. Her lungs burned from lack of oxygen, and her eyes burned from the tears she would not allow herself to shed.  
  
"Cassie." Jack's voice was soft and gentle as he climbed up the bluffs behind her.  
  
The hair on the back of Cassie's neck stood on end, and her body went rigid at the sound of his voice. Smoothing back her sweat drenched hair, Cassie stood up straight, taking slow, controlled breaths when dizziness overtook her. Inwardly, she cursed herself for standing up so quickly. She began stretching her tired muscles.  
  
"What do you want, Jack?" She asked, her voice cold with anger and the effort it took to keep from crying.  
  
"I wanted to make sure you were okay," he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets, frowning at the absurdity of his statement. Of course she wasn't okay.  
  
"Of course I'm ok," she replied flippantly. "Why wouldn't I be ok? I walked in on you and Sam naked, and you're back from the dead. What could possibly be wrong?" Part of her knew that at any other time, she would have been thrilled for Sam and Jack. She'd wanted to see them happy together for so long. But now....now everything was different.  
  
"Well, it couldda been worse," Jack offered helpfully, however misguided. "You couldda walked in on us when--" He frowned. "Oh wait, never mind, that wouldda been bad too."  
  
Cassie laughed mirthlessly. She stopped stretching and walked to the edge of the bluffs, squinting in the harsh morning sunlight. "Go back to the cabin Jack. I'll be back in a while."  
  
"I can't do that Cassie," Jack said, stepping up to stand behind her.  
  
"I'm fine, Jack, really," she insisted, although her voice was unconvincing. _Please go AWAY!!!!_ she silently begged. Why wouldn't he just leave her in peace? Or misery? Just as long as he left her alone. That's what she was destined to be after all.  
  
"You're not fine," he stated simply.  
  
She shrugged wordlessly and plopped down gracelessly, drawing her knees up, her feet flat on the rocks.  
  
"Mind if I sit down?" Jack asked tentatively.  
  
Cassie gestured for him to sit beside her but said nothing. He squinted, wishing he'd brought his sunglasses.  
  
Sighing, Jack frowned, wishing he knew what to say to her. With Sam, he'd known. He'd been cleared by the new CMO, Dr. Brightman. Nice enough, he guessed. Had a penchant for needles, just like Fraser had. But there was only one Janet Fraser. And now she was dead, and her daughter sat beside him, a bleeding wound he was powerless to stop.  
  
After he'd been cleared by the doctor, he'd been debriefed by General Hammond and Dr. Weir, then had a two hour conference call with the President. Ok, it had only been half an hour, but it had felt like it was two hours long. Daniel, summoned back from Greece, had tried calling Sam, but they discovered she'd left her phone on the base. She was at the cabin; of that, Daniel was certain.  
  
Sam had taken his truck, presumably hoping to get in some quality time with Cassie during the long drive from south eastern Colorado to northern Minnesota. Jack, on the hand, had felt no need to take his sweet time. He'd jumped the first flight, rented a car at the Twin Cities airport, and drove to his cabin straight away. Upon passing a twenty four hour 7-11, he'd gotten the idea for the Jell-O. Everything else he'd been rehearsing in his head for years, so when he finally had the opportunity, it was a piece of cake. A piece of really complicated, disbelieving, shocked cake, but cake nevertheless. Somehow, he thought a six pack of gelatin was not going to fix what was bothering Cassie. Sitting beside her, he could feel her pain and grief radiating off her in waves.  
  
"She's not coming back, is she?"  
  
Cassie's trembling voice broke the uncomfortable silence.  
  
Jack turned to look at her, his eyes kind and sympathetic. His heart was breaking for the young woman. "No sweetheart, she's not."  
  
Cassie sighed. Then, surprisingly, she leapt to her feet and screamed, "Fuck you!"  
  
Jack was on his feet in an instant, despite the protestations of his knee. He took hold of her arm. "Cassie, what--"  
  
But she wrenched herself free. "No! Don't even try to make me feel better Jack!" Her eyes were wild, like those of a caged animals. "It's not fair, and you know it." She was pacing now, crying, hysterical. "How come everybody else gets to come back but her? Huh? Daniel gets enough radiation to level a continent and _he_ got to come back! You gave yourself the universe's ultimate cram session and yet here _you_ are, standing right here, _alive_." She seemed to spit out the last word. She was near hyperventilating now. "And don't think I'm not happy to see you, cuz I am. Hi. How are ya? Welcome back to the land of the fucking living."  
  
"Cassie," he said gently, trying not to let her words sting, fearing she was going to get so worked up she'd slip and fall over the edge of the bluffs. "Sweetie, take it easy."  
  
"'Take it easy!'" Cassie echoed in disbelief. "You want me to take it easy?" She gasped, dizzy from nearly hyperventilating, but she wouldn't back down. "Was she not _special _enough?" She raged. "Not important enough? Of all of you, was my mom the most expendable? An acceptable loss? Collateral damage? Tell me, Jack!" She snarled viciously. "Make me understand!"  
  
"We all loved your mother, you know that," Jack replied, trying to keep his voice even. "If there had been anyway to save her, we would have done it gladly."  
  
She laughed as though disbelieving.  
  
"Oh for crying out loud, Cassie!" Jack scolded, his emotions getting the best of him. "You know how hard Sam took your mother's death. How hard we all took it. How can you say it was 'acceptable'?"  
  
"Oh yeah," Cassie scoffed. "Sam took it so damned _hard_ she mourned Mom for a whole month before she found something better to do."  
  
"A month?" Jack murmured, confused. Then it was as though a light went off in his head. He understood the true source of her pain. "She threw herself into finding a cure for me"  
  
Cassie nodded, choking on her sobs. "Congratulations. Give the man a prize."  
  
"And there was no one left," Jack surmised. He knew what soul numbing grief felt like. He knew that no matter how many loved ones surrounded you, all you felt was desperately alone.  
  
"I lose everyone," Cassie said, finally standing still. "Am I so awful, Jack? What do I do wrong that I lose everyone I love?"  
  
She looked so small and helpless, so vulnerable, Jack was afraid she was near collapse. And she was dangerously close to the edge of the bluffs. Cautiously, Jack held out his hand. "C'mere honey," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.  
  
Fat tears stained her cheeks; her eyes were swollen and puffy. She wanted so much to believe him, to go to him, to let him help take her pain away. And yet, something within her had shattered when her mother died, and when Jack had died, any last shred of it had been obliterated. She wasn't sure if the hope his "resurrection" brought could fix her.  
  
She wasn't sure if anything could.  
  
"I'm broken, Jack," she whimpered desperately. "I've always been broken, and anyone who comes in contact with me dies or leaves me. My people. Daniel. My mother. You. Sam." She ran her unsteady hands through her hair. "I have nothing left."  
  
Jack shook his head vehemently, amazed at the depths of her pain. He stepped towards her. "You're not alone, Cassie. I promise. I'm here now. Sam will always be here. Daniel and Teal'c will always be here for you too." He was mere inches from her now. Gently, he reached out and grasped her trembling hand. "We love you. We all love you."  
  
Her fragile frame crumpled, and she sank to the ground. Jack caught her and gently sat with her, gathering her in his arms as she wept, sobbing in anguish. His heart broke for the young woman he had loved for the past seven years like a daughter. Rocking her like a baby, he murmured soothing nonsense in her ear. "We're here, darlin', we'll always be here."  
  
She shook her head, "No you won't." Her voice was muffled by her sobs and the fact she had her head buried against his neck. "Don't make promises you can't keep."  
  
Stunned and unsure of what to say now, all Jack could do was rock her. She had a point. "Always" was a deceptively complicated word. True, even when he was ascended, Daniel had been there for them in their darkest moments, but he had not died in the way Janet had. Janet had not ascended. She'd been buried at Briarwood, the Colorado Springs cemetery. There had been discussion of burying her at Arlington, but her nearest and dearest couldn't bear the thought of her being so far from them.  
  
"Just be there for her. She needs you, needs to know you're real, that you're not going to leave her." Sam's voice rang in his head and he bristled with frustration. He hated that Cassie was hurting so much and that there was nothing he could do to stop it. Dammit, why had Sam stayed behind? She'd be doing a much better job than he was. She'd lost her mother as well. Sam knew what Cassie was going through. What would she do if she was here?  
  
He felt Cassie's tears soaking through his shirt and took a deep breath. "Cassie, your mom loved you more than anything. Before we went through the 'gate, I heard her telling Sam he hoped we made it back in time for her to get to your meet. You were always on her mind. Every minute."  
  
"I miss her so much," Cassie whimpered.  
  
"I know," he replied. "But you hafta try and remember all the good stuff--chick flicks, manicures, shopping sprees at the mall, day trips, bedtime stories when you were younger, and all the advice she gave you as you got older."  
  
"What am I going to do without her?" Cassie's sobs had subsided now, more from a lack of energy than from her pain ebbing.  
  
"You're going to survive," Jack promised. "Believe me, I know it feels like your world is about to end, but it's not. You're surrounded by people who love you, people who loved your mother, who want to see you do well, for her sake as well as your own." He pressed a loving kiss to the crown of her head. "As long as we've got you around to take care of, it's like your mom's still with us." He hugged her tightly. "And as long as we're around, your mom is still with you. Even when we're off world, or even when one of us--leaves--we're all always together." He tipped her chin with his forefinger, forcing her took look at him through bloodshot eyes. "We're a family. You, me, Sam, Teal'c, Daniel. Even General Hammond. He's like everybody's really stern grandpa, the kind everyone knows is really a big softy underneath."  
  
"Like you," Cassie murmured, her voice containing the slightest trace of humor.  
  
He frowned, "You sayin' I'm old, Cassie-girl?"  
  
She hugged him again, burying her damp face against his shoulder. "No, Jack, you're not old." She sniffed. "I'm sorry I was so mean, Jack."  
  
"Don't worry about it, kiddo," he replied, smoothing her hair. "Don't worry about anything."  
  
"Can we just stay here for a while?" She asked, sounding tired.  
  
"Sure," he said, repositioning them both so that they were more comfortable sitting on the hard rocky ground. "Anything you want, sweetheart."   
  
Cassie sighed and closed her eyes, snuggling into his protective embrace. Her heart still ached mercilessly, empty with her mother's absence. And yet, for the first time in a long time, she started to feel like maybe she wasn't completely alone.  
  
Worn out, she fell asleep in his arms, and he sat there with her for a long time, content to let her sleep as he watched the world move on around them. 


	7. Chapter 6: A Froshin' We Will Go

**_Author's Note_**: I'm still trying to figure out this two job thing, so my writing time is severly limited. I'm going to try for a "post every Monday" schedule, and then maybe shoot for a second day every week, but Mondays at least. This one's totally fluff and mostly filler, but it serves its purpose. Thanks to Macisgate for being a VERY prompt and fantabulous beta :)  
  
**_Disclaimers/Spoilers_**: See previous chapters. Nothing's changed. Rated 'R' for language and...adult situations, I guess.

"Sam, I swear to God, if you don't stop taking pictures, I'm going to--"  
  
"You're going to what, flyboy?"  
  
"Super glue you to my barca-lounger, make you watch every episode of _The Simpsons_, consecutively, send your laptop through the 'gate to that water planet the Russians found, and have Teal'c sing for you."  
  
"Jack, this is a big deal! I want to remember it."  
  
"Three roles is _plenty_ to remember it by. Leave the girl alone."  
  
"I'm not doing anything wrong!"  
  
"Three roles, Sam! You have an entire role of her making her bed."  
  
"So?"  
  
"This is what we call over protective on my planet; what's it called on yours?"  
  
"But Jack--"  
  
"Guys!"  
  
As amused as she was by the entire display, Cassie didn't feel like watching almost Lt. Colonel Carter and almost Brigadier General Jack O'Neill, defenders of Earth, defeaters of the Gou'uld, duke it out in her new dorm room. Somehow, her Freshman year at UC Denver, she had managed a single room in a tow room suite. She wondered if her high ranking military superhero guardians had anything to do with it. She had a sneaky suspicion Jack hadn't wanted her to share a room with a any "drug addicted sex fiends" who would keep her up all night and disrupt "all that serious academic stuff" and her track obligations.  
  
Not that she minded. She'd kind of been dreading sharing a room with someone. "Single Child Syndrome," she'd heard it called. Watching Jack and Sam glare at each other and bicker good-naturedly, she smiled. Being the ward of the USAF's finest did have it's perks.  
  
"No more bickering, or I'll tell the security guards not to let you in when you come to visit," the young woman scolded, folding her arms across her chest, feigning indignation.  
  
Jack, in turn, feigned offense. "'_Bicker_'? I do not 'bicker'!" A sparkle gleamed mischievously in his eyes. "Sam maybe, but me--"  
  
"Hey!" Sam cried, slapping his arm.  
  
In truth, they bickered like an old married couple, and they knew it. For years, Jack had loved pushing Sam's buttons and pushing her to her exasperated limits, just as she loved confusing the hell out of him with her "technobabble."  
  
Cassie laughed and delighted in the feeling of it. Since that day on the bluffs, she felt as though a weight had been lifted. She, Jack, and Sam had spent another week at his Minnesota cabin, before returning to Colorado Springs to start packing her life up and preparing for Freshman Orientation. Luckily enough, her move-in day was two days before SG-1 was to return to active duty. Then, Sam and Jack would be officially promoted, and Jack would assume command of the SGC.  
  
In forty-eight hours, they went back to saving the universe one planet at a time. Until then, they had the luxury of being friends, new lovers, and nervous "parents" sending their kid to college. For her part, Cassie was glad she'd decided to attend University of Colorado at Denver, even though she'd been awarded a full track scholarship to their Colorado Springs campus as well. Denver was less than two hours away. Far enough to be free, but not too far in case of an emergency.   
  
Sam turned to Cassie. "We could stay and help you unpack."  
  
Cassie smiled, inferring from Sam's voice that she really wanted her to say yes. However, as much as she loved Sam, if she let them stay, Sam would arrange the room the way she wanted, which meant everything from her DVDs to her feminine hygiene products would be alphabetized AND arranged in descending height order. No thanks, Colonel Obsessive Compulsive. "I'm ok," Cassie said, a little too emphatically. "You guys need to start heading back anyway. Besides, you have one more day of freedom left, and I don't want you spending it me and my fellow froshers."  
  
"We could all go to dinner tonight--" Sam suggested, kind of desperately.  
  
"Sam," Jack interrupted in a gentle, but warning tone. He took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Cassie's right. It's time for us to go."  
  
Sam sighed, knowing when she was outnumbered. She gave her lover's hand a quick squeeze of thanks before dropping it and pulling Cassie into a firm embrace. "If you need anything--"  
  
"I'll call the SGC, and they'll dial PXY-Z123 and let you know," Cassie joked, winking at Jack over Sam's shoulder. She smiled as she watched him stifle a laugh.  
  
Sam scowled and looked at him. "This is _your_ influence."  
  
Jack held up his hands placatingly but replied, "Damn, I hope so." Sam reluctantly released Cassie, and Jack gladly took his turn.  
  
"Good luck, Cassie-girl," he said. "Anybody gives you trouble, call me, and I'll come kick their ass."  
  
Cassie laughed, "No offense, Jack, but don't you mean you'll be sending Teal'c to do the ass kicking?"  
  
It was Sam's turn to laugh, while Jack bristled. "Again, I say, your influence, Jack," she chuckled.  
  
"Haven't even gotten a desk yet, and I'm already being called soft," he grumbled.  
  
Cassie and Sam smiled. "Jack, you've always been a big ole softy, admit it," Cassie chided.  
  
Pouting like a wounded puppy, Jack looked to Sam for back-up, but she shook her head. "She's right, Jack."  
  
"Hey! I've gone toe-to-toe with Gou'uld badasses a hundred times. C'mon! I mean, Ra, Apophis, Seth, Anubis!" He counted them off on his fingers, while his mouth gaped like a fish. He was determined to fix his wounded pride.  
  
"Mmmmhmm," Sam said, reaching out and wrapping her arms around his waist. "And in spite of all that, a baby, a puppy, or one of us getting so much as a splinter turns you to mush."  
  
Jack growled but said nothing as Sam placed a chaste kiss to his cheek by way of apology.  
  
Cassie glanced at the clock and clapped her hands decisively. "Okay guys, I'm kicking you out. I wanna shower and change before the Frosh Meet-n-Greet."  
  
"That's a dance, isn't it?" Sam asked, still in Jack's arms.  
  
Cassie nodded. "It'll probably be lame, but I hear there's free cookies and soda, so---score!"  
  
"Sweet!" Jack said, holding out his arm to give Cassie one final hug. He smiled when both of his girls were in his arms. They were right; he was a big ole softy--although he'd never admit it.  
  
"Bye," Cassie murmured.  
  
"We'll see you soon," Jack replied, kissing the crown of her head. He released her and she stepped away.  
  
"Have a safe trip," she said.  
  
"Be safe," Sam replied.  
  
"Yeah," Jack added. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."  
  
"Oh, the possibilities _that_ leaves," Cassie retorted gleefully.  
  
Jack smiled knowingly. Then he took Sam by the hand and gently led her out of the suite. Cassie decided to walk with them to the elevator. As they boarded, Cassie stuck her hand out to keep the doors from closing. "Just do me one favor, okay guys?"  
  
Sam and Jack exchanged confused glances. "What?" Sam asked cautiously.  
  
"No more airmen, no matter how cute, showing up at my door with condolences, ok?" she asked, her voice light with humor, but her eyes belied the seriousness of her words. "Tell Daniel and Teal'c too. Nobody dies or gets mortally wounded for at least, like, a year, okay?"  
  
Jack smiled comfortingly, "We'll do our best."  
  
The elevator started beeping angrily at being delayed. Cassie removed her arm and the doors began to close. "Love you both," she said.  
  
"We love you too," Sam replied, hand in hand with Jack as the doors shut completely.  
  
Cassie smiled and returned to her new life. 


	8. Chapter Seven: When Reality Sets Back In

_**Author's Note**_: Thanks again to Macisgate for the beta! Here's some more fluff for ya'll. There's plot around the corner, I swear to God.  
  
_**Disclaimers/Spoilers**_: Uh....none of it's mine and I claim use of anything that already has OR has YET TO air in the US. Which basically means any spoilers I read/see could go in this fic. There. That's settled. Read! Review too!  
  
An eerie, yet uncomfortable peace had settled across Jack's home like a predator lying in wait. Sam shivered as a breeze flitted across her skin, caressing it like a lover, whisper soft, bringing with it the promise of unknown things to come. All the windows were open, but the curtains were closed tightly across them, and the light that filtered through was eerie and cast bizarre shadows across the walls. The summer breeze poured through the open windows and made the curtains flap, sometimes violently, like birds poised to take flight. The smell of rain was carried by the wind, which occasionally whipped so hard against the windows that they echoed back bangs of complaint. The storm had just passed, actually; it had been raining all day, providing them with ample opportunity to spend their last day of freedom in bed.  
  
They were curled around each other, practically one person. Sam was on her back, propped up on some pillows, one arm under her head. She was wearing one of Jack's plaid shirts. For his part, Jack was lying on his stomach, his feet hanging over the edge of the bed. His face was pillowed by her stomach, which he would occasionally kiss gently. Her hand caressed his cheek, her fingers sometimes wandering to play idly with his hair.  
  
Sam wondered, in typical over-analytical Samantha Carter fashion, if they were going too fast. The rational part of her brain said no, that technically they had been working towards this for eight years; that every smile, joke, tease, wound, hug, retort, and mission had led them to this long overdue moment. The cautious part of her brain, however, worried that despite the implicit trust the last eight years had brought them, there were also eight years of baggage between them. For eight years they had put their feelings aside in the name of the greater good. Every mission, they'd accepted the possibility that one of them might not make it back. Many times, they almost hadn't. They'd been captured, tortured, experimented upon. They'd been lied to, deceived, betrayed. They'd both been lost, MIA, thought dead.  
  
And there had been others. Laira, for him. That had hurt. Logically, she knew he'd simply accepted the fact that he was permanently stranded, that he was going to live out his days there. He was making the best of the situation. What pained her, though, was that while he had been moving on, she had been doing everything in her power to bring him home. So much so that she began drawing suspicion from her colleagues. She hadn't been able to bear him kissing Laira good-bye. That had been too much. She'd kept her distance from him then, after that, for as long as she could.  
  
"I'm a safe bet," he'd said. She'd said. _Safe bet?_ She'd clearly been delusional. Jack O'Neill was about as far from safe as she could get. A relationship with him could cost her her career. Could have. Which is what had led her to Pete Shanahan. He was safe. There were no regulations to keep them from having a relationship. But her life had ultimately been too much of a secret for their brief relationship to bear. Pete couldn't handle her utter nondisclosure about her job. Not that the smoldering torch she carried for Jack had helped things either.  
  
Jack's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Penny?" he asked, grinning boyishly.  
  
Tenderly, she laid a palm alongside his cheek and shook her head. "Not worth it."  
  
He smiled. "If you were trying to figure out how to get some doohickey of yours to work or go faster, then those thoughts are probably worth a couple million pennies."  
  
Sam grinned and felt a warmth spread through her as he placed another kiss to her stomach. She pulled him up, and he perched himself above her, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. With a chuckle, she brought him down to kiss her properly. In one move, his arms sliding under her, he flipped them over so that he was lying on his back. Sam squealed at his agility and laughed into his mouth, eventually settling her head on his shoulder. She sighed with contentment.  
  
"So really," he said. "What was that pretty blonde head of yours worried about?"  
  
"I wasn't worried," she said innocently.  
  
He scoffed, "Come on Sam, I know you. Eight years. I know when you're worried."  
  
_I know you._ She knew he did. He knew her better than anyone else in the world.... perhaps in the universe. For the last eight years, he had seen her at her best and worst. Without a doubt, he knew her better than any other living soul. "I was just thinking," she insisted.  
  
"Clearly," he chided. "About....?"  
  
She sighed, wishing, not for the first time, that his stubborn streak would back the hell off, just this once. "Us. You. Me. Everyone else we've been with who wasn't you or me."  
  
Jack frowned, "And you were thinking about that _why?"  
_  
"I don't know," she confessed with a shrug. Propping herself up on one elbow, she met his gaze. "These last two weeks have been amazing."  
  
"But...."  
  
Sam bit her lip. "But I can't help but feel as though we've been living in a dream, and tomorrow the real world is going to come slamming back in."  
  
"Sam," he began. "I told you--"  
  
"I know," she interrupted. "We've got the President's blessing, but--"  
  
"But what?" he asked, a little nervously. "What more do you want?"  
  
She continued to bite her lip. "I don't know. Nothing. This is everything we've been denying ourselves, but I can't accept that it's going to just be this simple."  
  
Jack frowned.  
  
Sam was all business now. This was their opportunity to discuss how their personal lives were going to influence their professional ones, and she wasn't going to pass it up, no matter how unpleasant it might be. "Can you honestly tell me that you can compartmentalize that much. That, as base commander and leader of the SGC, you won't allow your personal feelings for me to affect your decisions. SG-1 is the flagship team. We don't do random exploratory missions. We go where the most unusual and most dangerous situations are. It's what's expected--and required--of us."  
  
Jack sighed and averted his eyes, and Sam knew she was striking a chord. It had been a tacit unspoken agreement between them these last few weeks not to talk about work in any capacity if they could at all avoid it. But clearly, the thoughts had been troubling both of them. Her features softened. "You know the sacrifices the team has to make and what sacrifices in particular are expected of the team leader. When we're called in to clean up a mess or bail someone out of a fire fight or God knows what else, are you going to be able to just stand there and give us a go?"  
  
"It's my job," he replied, knowing that wasn't an answer.  
  
"Yes Jack," she said softly. "It is. But when the situation arises like that one that did when...when we lost Janet, are you going to be able to let me lead SG-1 through the gate?"  
  
Jack sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Goddammit," he sighed, feeling like they had traded one charade for another. At least before, if they were in danger, he was there to protect her. Now she was going to be on her own. Sure, she would have Teal'c and Daniel, and whomever they assigned as a fourth, but he wouldn't be there to make sure she made it home. Instead, he'd be sitting behind a desk twiddling his thumbs and probably praying more than he had in years.  
  
Gently, Sam kissed the corner of his mouth. "I just want you to consider the possibility. If we allow our personal feelings to affect our professional performance--that'll be it Jack, you know it."  
  
"We never let it affect us before," he replied, visions of her being brought through the gate in a body bag filling his head.  
  
"We could never acknowledge what was between us before," she reminded him gently. "And we did too let it affect us."  
  
"Semantics," he grumbled.  
  
She settled herself beside him, her lips at his ear. "You have to let me go, Jack. You're still my CO, and I'm still your 2IC. That hasn't changed. But now the whole base will be looking to you for guidance, to set an example." She sighed. "And I'm sure our superiors are going to keep a close eye on us."  
  
Jack groaned. "Why did I agree to take this job?"  
  
"Because you've earned it," she replied sincerely.  
  
He turned his face to her. "I won't send you to your death."  
  
"I'm not going to die," she said softly. "But I am going to do my job, and you're going to do yours."  
  
Jack sighed, "I know. But don't be stupid like me and lead your team into bad situations."  
  
"You never forced us into danger, Jack," she said determinedly. "We knew the risks."  
  
"But how many times did I almost lose you?" he insisted. "Nirrti almost killed you. Daniel died. Teal'c has almost died a couple times too." His voice was laced with pain. It was as though years of repressed guilt were coming back to haunt him.  
  
Sam lovingly traced the contours of his face. "We're all alive. We're all here." He didn't seem comforted. Not as much as she wanted. "I just got you all to myself. So you really think I'm going to let some Goa'uld come and take that away?"  
  
Jack saw the honesty, clarity, and determination shining in her eyes. He reached out and pulled her firmly against him. "I love you," he murmured.  
  
"I love you too," she happily replied. As his mouth claimed hers, he told her everything there was still left to say, and in that moment, she knew they weren't going too fast at all.  
  
Everything was just right. 


	9. Chapter Eight: The More Things Change

**_Author's Note_**: Hey all! I know its been a while, but I've been writing and plotting away, don't you worry. As Macisgate already knows, I'm going to be introducing another character very soon, the new fourth member of SG-1. I've known for a while I wanted to add this character and what I was ultimately going to do with them, but I had no idea how I was going to get us all there. I've also known how I wanted to disclose what was happening to Sam in the Prologue (remember that?) but I had no clue how I was going to get there either. THEN I saw "New Order" and was inspired. I've decided from here on out, if the episodes fit, I'm going to use them, slightly modified, in this story. As such, this story will now contain spoilers for all season 8 eps--not that it already hasn't but I'm going to be using all released spoiler information AND anything the US has seen in episodes. That means, if you haven't seen any of season 8 yet/don't read the spoilers--you might not want to go any further than this. Go ahead. Turn back. I won't mind. Seriously, ya'll, here there be spoilers. I'm going to futz with stuff and rearrange things/orders of events as I see fit, but I might also borrow pretty heavily from episode dialogue if it suits me. So if you don't wanna know what happens in S8 from here on out, turn back. It's cool. Come back and read me after you've seen some stuff. And if you're still here and keep reading, and get spoiled, don't say I didn't give you fair warning.  
  
_**Author's Note 2:**_ Thanks, as always, to Macisgate for betaing. All episode dialogue taken from SG1Transcripts.  
  
**_Disclaimers/Spoilers_**: I kinda did this already, but I claim everything that's already aired in the US AND everything that has yet to air. If you don't wanna know, don't read. I put stuff in these chapters that I've found about in the spoiler world. You've been warned.  
  
"And now, it is my pleasure to present, Brigadier General Jack O'Neill!"  
  
Reserved, yet somehow still thunderous, applause filled the gate room as President Hayes stepped aside and allowed a now officially promoted Jack to step up to the podium. With a nervous, yet appreciative smile, Jack shook the surprise guest's hand. Originally, as departing leader of the SGC, Dr. Weir was going to run the ceremony. Then, he had been informed that instead it would be a "surprise guest." After hearing that news, Jack had bet SG-1 who that person would be; loser had to do whatever the winner wanted for an entire day. He had bet on Hammond. Daniel, Sam, and Teal'c had bet on the President. They won. Now he owed each of them a day from Hell. Well, with Sam, he was sure he could persuade her to do something fun--he was cute and damned charming after all--but with Daniel and Teal'c...he shuddered at the thought.  
  
"Thank you, Sir," he replied, proudly saluting the leader of the free world. Looking around, he met the equally proud faces of his friends and colleagues. On the ramp stood the President, a smiling Major General George Hammond, and a humble Dr. Elizabeth Weir, as well as Staff Sergeant Walter Davis. At the base of the ramp, slightly ahead and apart from the rest of the SGC, stood SG-1. His family. Daniel and Teal'c, newly tanned and haired, respectively, were impeccably dressed in suits and ties. Daniel sported a big old congratulatory grin while Teal'c merely, and characteristically, bowed in respect. Beside them stood a beaming, soon-to-be-officially-promoted Doctor Samantha Carter. After his speech, Jack would promote her and turn over command of SG-1 to her. Before opening his mouth to speak, he smiled at her. He hadn't thought it possible, but her smile widened.  
  
"Carter, you checked the skies for our Asguard friends, right? We all remember what happened last time I got up to give a speech like this." His voice boomed via the microphone. The assembled SGC personnel chuckled.  
  
She nodded, chuckling herself. "All clear, sir."  
  
He nodded in satisfaction. "Good," he replied. "But I'm going to make this brief anyway, just in case Thor decides to pull a fast one on us and beam me outta here."  
  
More laughter.  
  
Jack took a deep and steadying breath. "Normally, I am a man of very few words--" He looked up, body stiff, as though waiting for Thor to snatch him up. When it was clear that wasn't going to happen, Daniel cleared his throat and waved his hand discreetly.   
  
"Keep going," Sam mouthed.  
  
Jack leaned forward. "I wish I could say I didn't owe anything to anyone, but the truth is I wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't for the courage and support of each and every one of you. I hope I can be as good a leader as we've had in the past." He looked briefly over his shoulder at Hammond before continuing. "And as good as you deserve."  
  
"Hear, here!" Daniel called, soliciting applause from the rest of the spectators.  
  
Jack smiled, continuing, "The other reason I took this job, aside from being able to do whatever I want--"  
  
The President cleared his throat.  
  
"Within reason of course," Jack added slyly. "Was so I could do really cool stuff like this: it is with great pride that my first order of business as commander of this base is to promote Major Samantha Carter to Lieutenant Colonel."  
  
Once again, thunderous applause filled the gate room. Sam smiled in appreciation, blushing. She hated the attention almost more than he did. "C'mere," he mouthed, cocking his head. He laughed when he saw Daniel give her a little push and she began ascending the ramp towards the podium. As she approached him, Jack suppressed the urge to hug her. It was inappropriate. Here, and especially in moments like this, he was reminded how tremulous their arrangement was--here, they were CO and 2IC, friends and comrades at best, not lovers. Most of the base, he assumed, had assumed they'd "hooked up" the moment he was thawed out. Most had the decency, discretion, and perhaps enough fear of him, not to mention anything about it.  
  
Jack stepped away from the podium, her new insignia in hand, as the President once again stepped up to the mike. "As President of the United States," his booming voice filled the room, and probably could have done so without electronic aid. "I have placed special trust and confidence in the patriotism, integrity, and abilities of Major Samantha Carter. Major Samantha Carter is promoted to the grade of Lieutenant Colonel, United States Air Force."  
  
Jack finished pinning her and saluted. She returned the gesture in kind and was rewarded with a wink. "Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter," he murmured, more for her ears than anyone else's.  
  
"_Doctor_ Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter," she replied cheekily.  
  
He made a face before turning back to the crowd. "Mr. President, General Hammond, ladies and gentlemen, please may I have a round of applause for Doctor Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter." As still more applause filled the room, he raised his right hand and instructed her to do the same. "Repeat after me. 'I, insert name--'"  
  
She smiled at him, replying, "I, Samantha Carter--"  
  
The rest of the ceremony was somewhat of a blur for both of them. She pledged to abide by all the rules and regulations her new title carried, as well as to continue to serve and fight for her country. She repeated whatever Jack told her to, their eyes never wavering from each other. She was so nearly lost in them that she could have been promising to watch the entire Simpsons DVD collection and not have known it. For his part, Jack was nearly bursting with pride. He thought back to their conversation the previous night and knew that in two weeks things had gone quite fast. And yet, things felt so right. Sure, he was nervous as hell to be taking over command of the SGC. He also wasn't loving the fact that some day, sooner rather than later, he was going to have to send them out into the field and not be there to protect them. Despite all that, he knew he had made the right decision. The decision to follow his gut instead of the regs, the decision to accept the promotion instead of pushing for retirement. With Hammond getting bumped up to Director of Homeworld Security--so much for _his_ retirement--Jack knew he was the best man to take over. No one knew the SGC like he did, and he couldn't risk leaving them in the hands of some tyrant bureaucrat, no matter how tempting a life of fishing might have been.  
  
After the ceremony was over, they headed to the mess hall, which had been converted into Party Central. It was a Congratulations/Welcome Back, Jack/Farewell Dr. Weir Party. There was a hot and cold buffet, desserts, an open bar, and an SF playing disc jockey. However, before Jack and Sam were allowed to join the festivities, they were whisked away to his new office.  
  
"Colonel, General," Sergeant Davis said, almost apologetically as they were about to enter the party with Teal'c and Daniel. "The President would like to speak to you in...well, in your office, General."  
  
Jack turned to his friends, "Go on ahead of us. We'll be there in a jiffy." Their friends nodded and walked away from them. "And stay away from the bar, Daniel!" Jack called as an after thought. Daniel paused briefly but did neither turn around nor reply. Teal'c, however, caught Jack and Sam's attention and gave them a look as if to say _'I will do my best to keep him from getting inebriated too quickly_.' It was the best they could hope for.  
  
Five minutes later, Davis ushered them into Jack's new office. As they entered, the President stood, rising from his chair behind the empty desk. Dr. Weir had already cleaned her things out in preparation for her move to the Antarctic outpost.  
  
"Give us a minute, guys," Hayes said, dismissing his Secret Servicemen. The typically stoic, black suit clad men nodded their heads and filed past Sam and Jack silently, shutting the door behind them. "Have a seat, kids," the President said, directing them to sit in the two chairs in front of the desk.  
  
Exchanging quick, slightly nervous glances, Jack and Sam did as they were told.  
  
"Congratulations on your promotions," Hayes said, sitting once more behind the desk.  
  
"Thank you, sir," Sam said respectfully.  
  
"Yes, thank you," Jack added. "It was a very nice ceremony."  
  
Hayes nodded, "I thought so too." He paused, thoughtfully. "But that's not why I asked you here."  
  
Jack looked sideways at Sam before replying, "Didn't think so, sir."  
  
Sam sat up a little straighter. "Then what did you ask us here for, sir?" Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, but Jack could tell she was nervous. For two weeks, he knew she'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop. Now, with the President calling them into the principal's office, she was sure it was going to happen. He didn't know what Hayes had in mind, but he had been promised that this was kosher, and he was not going to let this get taken away from them.  
  
Hayes stood again and came around to the front of the desk, sitting casually on the edge of it. "I can't make it to the party--gotta go back to Washington. I've left mice alone to play too long. But before I go, I just wanted to make sure we were all clear on the situation here."  
  
Jack didn't think it was possible, but Sam sat up even straighter. He could practically hear her thinking: 'Here it comes.' Still, he resisted the urge to reach out and comfort her, to take her hand. He was going to let the President play his hand and then go from here.  
  
"I think we're all on the same page, sir," he said cautiously.  
  
Hayes smiled. "Jack, I know we talked about this, but I want to bring Colonel Carter up to speed, although I'm sure you've already told her."  
  
"I gave her my understanding of our agreement sir, but please feel free to add anything," he replied politely. Let him play the hand...  
  
Hayes turned towards a professional, but uncomfortable Sam. "Colonel," he began. "When then-Colonel O'Neill was revived, one of the first things he did was video conference with me. I wanted to talk to him personally about his experience, not read a report."  
  
Sam nodded, "That's understandable, sir."  
  
"During our discussion, I commended Jack on once again going above and beyond the call for his country and planet," Hayes continued.  
  
"General O'Neill is a very dedicated soldier, sir," Sam offered helpfully.  
  
Jack really suppressed the urge to take her hand. She was about this close to babbling and he knew it.  
  
Hayes nodded indulgently, and went on. "I then made the mistake of telling him that I owed him big time for what he'd done and if he ever needed anything, to let me know."  
  
Sam nodded, smiling politely.  
  
"For God sakes, Colonel, at ease," the President said with a laugh. A deep blush stained Sam's cheeks, and she forced herself to relax. He looked at Jack, "Is she always like this?"  
  
"She loosens up eventually," Jack deadpanned before breaking into his patented megawatt grin.  
  
The President smiled, saying to Sam, "Now that you've relaxed, Colonel Carter, allow me to continue." Sam blushed some more. "It was then that Jack pointed out that I didn't just owe him one, I owed most of the SGC, especially SG-1, about fifty times over. At least. I'm sure you see now how he got me to bend the regulations for you two."  
  
"And we appreciate it, sir," Sam replied sincerely.  
  
"I'm sure you do, and I was glad to do it," Hayes told her. "I'd heard rumors about the two of you, and while I don't necessarily condone this kind of...office romance, especially since the military expressly forbids it, I'm not a heartless man. I understand the dedication and hours this job requires. I know the sacrifices it has demanded of you, and I know how closely the teams work, especially SG-1. Frankly, I'm surprised you didn't request this sooner."  
  
Truth be told, until Jack had found himself no longer a popsicle, the thought had never occurred to him. It was just how things were. Period. End of story.  
  
"However," the President was saying. "There are still rules and regulations to be followed. He's now the leader of this facility, and you are now the leader of our flagship team. Those new positions are going to put both of you under even more scrutiny than you were before and not just from your colleagues. You're now being watched by hawks in the highest levels of government. Just because I okayed this bending of the rules doesn't mean I can protect you forever, nor do I intend to. You're both..." He looked at Jack, considering his words. "Mature adults and seasoned Air Force officers. You know what is expected of you and I expect nothing less. On this base, you are General and Colonel, base commanding officer and second in command. If I even smell that there is any kind of special treatment going on here, you'll both be discharged so fast your heads will spin. I don't want to do that. You two are both way too important to this planet--hell, to this galaxy--to lose. As such, I expect you to go about your jobs as though the regulations still wholly applied to you. I can't court martial you for what happens off the clock any more, but if I hear of things happening on the clock..."  
  
Jack nodded. That was fair. Even though he felt a little bit like a schoolboy being given his first curfew by his parents.  
  
"Of course, sir," Sam said, the relief in her voice unmistakable.  
  
"Good," Hayes said, smiling. He clapped his hands on his thighs and rose from his desk. "Now that that's over with, we'll never speak of it again." He glanced at his watch. "I really have to go. Someone's gotta run this country, and our new Vice President is still getting used to his promotion from Speaker of the House."  
  
"If you don't mind my saying so, sir," Jack said. "I couldn't have been happier when I heard Former Vice President Kinsey had.... resigned."  
  
"You and me both," the President said with a gleam in his eye. "Congratulations again, kids. I leave the SGC in your more than capable hands."  
  
"Thank you, sir," both Sam and Jack said, slightly overlapping, as they rose to shake the President's hand.  
  
As he slipped his suit jacket back on, Hayes snapped his fingers. "Oh right, one more thing."  
  
Sam and Jack once again exchanged glances. "Yes, sir?" Jack asked pleasantly.  
  
"I don't know if either one of you had put any thought into this yet, but I'm assigning a new fourth member to SG-1."  
  
They both frowned. "Sir?" Sam queried. "I didn't know you were that interested in the daily goings on of the team."  
  
Hayes shrugged, "Normally, I'd leave it to you, but with the Stargate program becoming more and more public, especially with the development of the Ancient outpost, international pressure is increasingly exponentially by the day." He sighed. "So, in the spirit of diplomatic good faith with our European allies, I'm authorizing some interagency musical chairs."  
  
Jack frowned, "Pardon my idiocy sir, but, huh?"  
  
The President hid a smile. "Interagency cooperation, Jack. I'm sending some of our guys overseas to work with some of the European agencies, and they're sending us a few of theirs. The SGC, specifically SG-1, gets its new member tomorrow. She arrives at 0900." He smiled reassuringly. "It'll be fine, kids. She's quite capable, and I know she'll be a great addition to the team. Good luck." And with that, he took his leave of them, leaving a stunned General and Colonel in his wake.  
  
"A new team member, huh?" Jack said after a time.  
  
"Guess so," Sam replied, still trying to assimilate all the information she'd been given. "I guess things are about to get a lot more interesting around here.  
  
Jack sighed. "Things are never not interesting around here, Carter," he replied ruefully. He just couldn't shake the feeling things might not be changing for the better. 


	10. Chapter Nine Part One: So Who's the New ...

**_Author's Note:_** Okay kids, things are about to get interesting. Here comes that new character I was telling ya'll about last chapter. This chapter ended up being kind long, so I split it up into two parts, FYI. Ok, here's the evolution of this character: I created (STORY SPOILER AHEAD) _her_, a long time ago, as part of another series, but I only published one part of it. The rest are all sitting on my computer waiting to be rewritten. But as I was working on the earlier parts of this story, Daniel kept popping into my head, saying "Hey! What about me! It can't ALL be about Jack and Sam! I want to be more than a tertiary character here!" And he wouldn't shut up. Then my girl jumped in and said, "Hey, this story looks kinda neat, can I be in it?" And Daniel went, "Come on, she's cute, let her in." So I did. And the result is....the rest of this story. Thanks for your patience. Thanks to Macisgate for being such a great beta and suffering through my misgivings and rewrites.  
  
**_Spoilers/Disclaimers_**: Rochelle is the only one I own. Everything else belongs to SciFi and MGM and RDA, et al. There could be spoilers up through episodes of Season 8 that haven't even aired in the US yet. You've been sufficiently warned. Enjoy!  
  
Jack paced the briefing room like a restless animal. If he were able, Sam was certain he'd be growling with displeasure.  
  
"Be nice," she warned, leisurely sipping her coffee. SG-1 was gathered around the briefing room table, waiting to meet their newest member. Teal'c, still surprising to see with hair, sat beside Sam, stoic as ever, waiting patiently, watching Jack pace. If he found any amusement in it, he didn't show it. Across from Sam sat Daniel, who was also nursing a cup of coffee. Daniel was flying down to Antarctica tomorrow with Jack to prepare the new teams down there. He was pouring over his notes like a schoolboy cramming for an exam. He seemed too enthralled in his work to notice Jack's nervous behavior.  
  
Jack arched a brow, stopping in his tracks. "I am _always _nice," he replied, his words slow and deliberate, feigning offense, and yet his voice was tinged with annoyance.  
  
She smiled, but it was Daniel who replied. Without looking up from his work, he remarked, "To us, sure in your own way. But you're about to meet your replacement, a replacement you had no hand in choosing."  
  
Sam bit back a laugh.  
  
"Actually," Jack replied, pouring himself a glass of water. "_Carter_ is my replacement. I'm meeting _her_ replacement, who I had no hand in choosing." He frowned, grumbling. "She'd better measure up to her predecessor."  
  
"You seem agitated O'Neill," Teal'c observed. "Do you not have confidence in President Hayes and his decision to add this person to SG-1. As leader of this country, does he not posses the knowledge and intelligence to know a good decision from a bad one?"  
  
Jack had no answer for him. He merely paced some more, scowling.  
  
"Sir..." Sam said warningly, pleading. "Give her a chance." She couldn't help but notice how easily they had fallen back into their roles of 'Carter' and 'Sir.' Even after their discussion the other night, she had wondered if there would be any weirdness between them. To the best of her knowledge, neither one of them had been in the situation before where they made love with someone by night (and morning and in the shower) and then had to go be their CO/2IC.  
  
"For crying out loud, Carter, she's not even military!" The secrecy under which this person was being brought to his SGC was infuriating.  
  
"But she's not NID either, sir; of that the President assured us," Carter said reasonably, still seated at the briefing room table.  
  
"'Interagency cooperation in the spirit of diplomatic good faith with our European allies,'" he grumbled. "She's not even American."  
  
"Don't be so paranoid and ethnocentric," Daniel chided, closing his file, apparently having decided Jack was more amusing than his research.  
  
Jack scowled some more, "I am _not_ being ethnocentric."  
  
"You are too," Daniel replied antagonistically.  
  
"Anyway," Sam cut in, before they launched into a school yard shouting match. "If she wasn't qualified, the President wouldn't have agreed to her transfer."  
  
Her logic was indisputable, and yet Jack remained skeptical and uneasy. There was something extremely off about this entire situation, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. It wasn't that he necessarily objected to being superseded in the matter of the new fourth member of SG-1. It wasn't even that he necessarily minded the new member wasn't US Military--after all, the Atlantis Team he was to meet tomorrow was an international one, what with half the world's major political powers claiming rights to the Outpost. What bothered him was the secrecy. The silence. The lack of knowledge. He had no idea who was about to walk into his briefing room, who he was about to, whether he liked it or not, send out with his team, to work with and fight alongside of. He didn't know this person's record, morals, loyalties, abilities. And though he trusted the President, more or less, he had never much been one for surprises.  
  
Just then, the briefing room phone rang. "O'Neill," he barked, picking up the receiver. Sam raised her brows, as did Teal'c and he sighed. For his part, Daniel merely folded his arms and looked up at Jack innocently, expectantly. Jack knew when he was outnumbered. Softening his tone, he replied to the SF on the other end of the line, "Send them up." He hung up and frowned. "They're here."  
  
"Be nice," Sam said again.   
  
Daniel chuckled, and Jack shot him a look. "Sorry," Daniel said with a wince under Jack's withering glare even though they all knew he really wasn't that sorry at all.  
  
As usual, Teal'c remained.... Teal'c.  
  
Jack scowled. A knock came swiftly to the door, and he plastered on his largest shit-eating grin. "Come in!" he sing-songed, shooting Carter and Daniel a _'See how nice I am?'_ look.  
  
She sighed and shook her head, exchanging knowing glances with her friends, pitying the person about to walk through the door. Undoubtedly, they had never met someone like General Jack O'Neill before.  
  
The door to the briefing room opened and Mark Gilmor, Jack's personal aide stepped in. In his hand, he carried four, half inch thick dossiers. he set them in front of the General and SG-1, then simply stood at parade rest, waiting. In the very short time he'd been the personal aid to Brigadier General Jack O'Neill, he had learned to enter a room, do what he was supposed to, and await further instructions. Anything else only provoked the General and his somewhat.... eccentric personality.  
  
With little fanfare, a tall woman entered the briefing room. She was wearing a remarkably well tailed black single breasted pant suit, underneath which she wore a cream colored silk top. Her long dark red hair hung loosely down her back, and her high heels echoed as she walked. Her strides were purposeful, determined, efficient. She carried herself strong and high. If she was in anyway trepidatious about her new assignment, she did not show it. Her shoes were maybe two or three inches high, and Sam guessed that she maybe stood five foot nine inches when barefoot. She was long and lean and even in the pantsuit, Sam could tell she was strong and able-bodied. Her eyes were such a strikingly clear shade of blue, Sam wondered if she wore contact lenses.  
  
The woman had a youthful appearance--too youthful, in Jack's opinion. At most, she could have been twenty-five. She indeed looked to be of European decent. Her red hair and pale, freckled skin made her look Irish, which earned her more than a few points in Jack's book, but really she could have been from anywhere in Western Europe. She looked very self-assured, very comfortable and at ease in her lean but obviously powerful body. "Be nice," Sam had said. Maybe he'd give her the benefit of the doubt. Or at the very least, hold off on being the son of a bitch he knew he could be, at least for a while.  
  
"General Jack O'Neill, may I present Special Agent Rochelle MacLeod," Gilmor said formally.  
  
At her name, Jack's eyes widened, but he tried to cover his reaction quickly, hoping that Sam hadn't caught it. Rochelle apparently did though, as she caught his gaze, the skin around her eyes crinkling every so slightly in a knowing grin.  
  
"Special Agent MacLeod, this is Colonel Samantha Carter, Doctor Daniel Jackson, and Teal'c. They comprise SG-1," Gilmor informed their new arrival.  
  
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Rochelle said in perfectly unaccented American English, extending her hand to Sam first. "I've read so much about you."  
  
"It's nice to meet you as well," Sam replied. "I'm sorry we can't say the same." She cast a quick sidelong glance at Jack and noticed he was looking at Rochelle curiously. It was as though he knew her from somewhere, recognized her face, but as one recognizes the face of a memorable stranger, one met lifetimes ago.  
  
Rochelle smiled, nodding at Daniel and Teal'c by way of greeting. "I'm sorry about all the secrecy. Allow me to explain."  
  
Jack turned to Mark. "Thank you, Gilmor, that will be all." He shot Sam a glance, clearly reveling in his newfound power. She rolled her eyes discreetly.  
  
Gilmor nodded his head and left the room, closing the door silently behind him. "Good boy," Jack murmured smugly, then recanted under the glare Sam shot him.  
  
"General," the newcomer said amiably, extending her hand to him. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well. And congratulations on your promotion."  
  
He shook her hand, "Likewise. And thank you." He motioned to the chair beside Daniel. "Please have a seat."  
  
Rochelle smiled gratefully and sat. As she did so, she exchanged a friendly glance with Daniel, who, by Sam's estimation, seemed a little smitten with the attractive newcomer. She made a mental note to tease him mercilessly about it later.  
  
Rochelle motioned to the dossiers. "That is my file. Feel free to browse it, read it, familiarize yourself with it as I explain. All I ask is that you all realize that as leader of this facility and members of it's flagship team, this is classified information that, for the time being, only you can be privy to."  
  
They had begun flipping through the first few pages of Rochelle's dossier, which included date of birth--8/12/75; height--5'8 1/2", weight--135, family background--Father: Unknown, Mother: Deceased 1991; and educational background--University of Alaska, BFA Theatre; American University, Paris, BA Psychology. At Rochelle's announcement that there was even more secrecy surrounding all this, Sam's mouth dropped slightly in shock. What the hell was going on? Maybe Jack had been right to be wary after all. This was way beyond highly unusual and not at all procedure, even for the SGC. Looking around the table, she noticed Daniel was bewildered as well. Typically, Teal'c sat expectantly, awaiting further explanation.  
  
For his part, Jack seemed strangely unfazed. Calmly, he flipped open Rochelle's dossier, raking his eyes down the page before thumbing through the next few pages. Sam searched his face for the barest hint as to what was going on, but he was unreadable. She frowned. "Tell me, Ms. MacLeod," he said slowly, casually. "How's you're uncle?" He leveled his gaze at Rochelle. "I'm assuming he's your--uncle."  
  
Rochelle grinned, "He's doing well, General, thank you. He sends his regards."  
  
"Tell him he still owes me a weekend at that cabin of his," Jack said jovially. His stern face broke out into a grin.  
  
"He told me to tell you that you have an open invitation," the woman replied.  
  
Sam watched the exchange with confused curiosity. She looked at Daniel for an explanation, but he merely shrugged. Teal'c cast her a sidelong glance and added an arched eyebrow for good measure, to communicate that he was equally perplexed. "Pardon me, sir, but do you two know each other?"  
  
Jack nodded. "Kinda. I met Rochelle's uncle, Duncan, back when I was still running Black Ops in the Middle East." Duncan MacLeod, an antique dealer by trade who called the Pacific Northwest home, was a pacifist with a warrior's soul. Wherever he went, trouble seemed to follow, but he was good to have by your side in a fight, as Jack found out the night they randomly met and found themselves at the wrong end of a gun held by a man who supplied weapons and explosives to foreign terrorists. They had been friends ever since. The supplier ended up in US custody, Jack received a commendation, and gained himself a new, and very intriguing, friend.  
  
"He only ever spoke very highly of you, General," Rochelle said.  
  
"He's a good man," Jack replied. "I'm glad to hear he's still around and kicking."  
  
Rochelle smiled slyly, further confusing Sam. "Kicking, punching, reading, traveling. The usual."  
  
Jack turned to his friends, finding the befuddled look on Sam's face endearing. Daniel just looked confused, which was a rarity Jack was going to enjoy. "Mac owns a dojo up north and lives in Paris for months at a time. It's a pretty sweet deal he's got generally." He chuckled at that. Generally was a bit of an understatement. To Sam, he then said, "You should meet him sometime."  
  
Sam nodded, clearly trying to process everything. "You've both intrigued me now." She paused thoughtfully. "But if you'll forgive my ignorance, I don't understand how the two of you having a mutual acquaintance qualifies as classified information."  
  
Jack exchanged glances with Rochelle and motioned for her to continue.  
  
"My uncle and I are Immortal," Rochelle stated simply. Jack simply nodded.  
  
"How did come by this knowledge, O'Neill?" Teal'c wondered.  
  
Daniel, ever the archaeologist, turned to Jack in astonishment. "You knew about this, and you never mentioned anything in all the time we were encountering different races?"  
  
"On other planets, Daniel," he reminded him impartially. "What lives among us here isn't our forte. Also? It's hard not to notice this stuff when you see a guy get shot point blank in front of you, then watch him wake up five minutes later."  
  
While Teal'c accepted the information, and Daniel gaped like a fish out of water, all Sam could do was listen and assimilate. She looked at Rochelle as though to ask her to continue.  
  
"We are an ancient people," the other woman went on. "As old as oral history, fighting through time, living among mortals. The only way we can die is if we are beheaded. We have been living in secret for millennia. Legend had it that we would fight and kill one another through the ages until only one of us remained. However, that climatic battle to be the last has come and gone, and yet a handful of us still exist. We believe it is because the original plan laid out for us was modified by actions unforeseen by our creators."  
  
"Your creators?" Jack asked. "I thought you guys had no clue where you came from."   
  
Rochelle nodded. "Four years ago, I joined a multi-governmental, completely autonomous, secret organization; my section was anti-terrorism, special ops. A year after my initiation, the agency was restructured, and I began working as a free agent throughout all sections. When your government revealed the existence of the Stargate to your European and Asian allies, I was assigned to monitor the program and its activities, for our own records."  
  
"That information became public two years ago," Teal'c observed.   
  
"Why are you coming to us now?" Daniel added, seemingly for the moment okay with the implications the existence of Immortals brought. Not only that, but the fact that Jack knew something about an ancient race he did not. He thought momentarily if they should call hell and see if it had frozen over.  
  
Rochelle spoke up. "Despite the ups and downs the program has experienced, it was my recommendation that we remained merely observers, and not interfere. On more than one occasion my superiors wanted to put pressure on foreign governments to put pressure on yours in regards to multi-governmental control, but I kept insisting we leave it alone; that remains my opinion still." She motioned for them to turn a page in her dossier. "However, during that time I became aware that I had been flagged by my agency for another purpose."  
  
"Which was...?" Jack prodded.  
  
"During the agency's restructuring, I 'died' on a mission--shot in the back. Before I revived, as order by the agency's transitional governing council, a pint of my blood was removed for analysis. My superiors believed that much could be gained if the source of my Immortality was discovered."  
  
Reading the medical report, Sam gasped, "You have naquada in your blood?"  
  
Rochelle nodded, "My blood is, in fact, eighty-five percent naquada. I have done some research on my own and discovered similar concentrations in other Immortals."  
  
"So your agency assigned you to watch us so they could monitor you without your knowledge," Daniel guessed.  
  
"In essence. They wanted to use me, use everyone like me, to create the perfect weapon. Deadly. Efficient. And nearly impervious. They wanted a super soldier."  
  
"So what happened?" Jack asked, knowing that the visions of Anubis's drones weren't filling only his head.   
  
"When the new, permanent leaders were put into place, this information came to light. After I learned of it, all members of the research team, along with those who sanctioned it, and all samples, were eliminated."   
  
Her tone was blank, devoid of feeling, robotic. The coldness of it shocked the assembled, who had known her for a total of five minutes. It was hard to get a lock on what kind of addition to the team she'd be when she kept dropping bombs left and right.  
  
Jack was surprised. "Eliminated?" He remembered, without fondness, his black ops days. The missions were long, hazardous, and damned near impossible. Intel almost always came from questionable sources, and the mission hardly ever went according to plan. That kind of life, fueled by secrecy, violence, and lies, did something to a person. It changed you. Made you hard. Blurred the lines between right and not exactly totally wrong. It was strange how you were able to justify things, given enough time and enough outside crap.  
  
Rochelle nodded, a look akin to regret crossing her face. "My new superiors are allies and agreed such information was not necessary and the research unproductive. The researchers could not synthesize a way for a regular human to sustain a high concentration of naquada. Everyone they tested it on, died. They tried synthesizing the protein marker the Goa'uld leave behind to see if that would work, but all test subjects died."  
  
"How did they get their hands on your blood in the first place?" Sam asked. This just kept getting stranger and stranger.  
  
"Basically they blackmailed your government into giving us some of your stockpile from Area 51. They threatened to withhold their vast and frighteningly effective resources if the US did not comply. Your last President was more than too happy to oblige rather than leave the US's most volatile enemies an opening to attack."  
  
Sam was getting a headache. "So you killed everyone who worked on the project?" She was astonished and horrified that any agency could sanction the murder of their own people. And as a scientist, Sam was horrified that other scientists had been killed because of their work. They were only doing their job. She suddenly felt ill.  
  
"I didn't kill them personally," Rochelle said. "Most were simply arrested for other crimes or canceled for inadequate service to the agency. But Colonel, make no mistake--the agency I come from does not recruit good people most of the time. Scientists to operatives, our people are the most ruthless, cunning, dangerous, and deadly people on this planet, many of whom would kill without second thought, without remorse." She was getting increasingly angrier with the subject. "They were using me as a lab rat against my knowledge! After losing too many human test subjects, they were going to round up as many Immortals as they could find, which I had already virtually given them direct access to, and experiment on us 24/7 until they figured out a way to synthesize the gene or genes we carry to sustain that much naquada. But they hadn't figured out if it was one gene or several, which meant they had to do tests on us for that too." Her eyes burned like fire. "I was protecting myself and the people I love." Her voice suddenly took on an almost bitter irony. "I simply could not allow that kind of information to be exploited."  
  
Jack sighed, the tension in the room palpable. He took a deep breath, trying to calm a riled up Rochelle and a stunned SG-1. Well, ok, a stunned Daniel and a horrified Sam. "I suppose, given the circumstances, I might have done the same."  
  
"Sir?" Sam asked, confused.  
  
"Jack," Daniel protested, "You know killing anyone, no matter how evil they are, is the last resort, not the first.  
  
Jack leveled his gaze at them. "We do crazy and inexplicable things to protect the people we love, Carter."  
  
Sam blushed and lowered her head.   
  
To Daniel, Jack said, "I as much as killed Niirti for experimenting on Carter while you were off making nice with the Ancients, Daniel. She was experimenting and torturing an entire race of people. How is our eliminating her operation different than what Rochelle and her people did? Just because Niirti was Goa'uld, it shouldn't matter." Although Daniel was his friend, he felt some inexplicable need to defend Rochelle. "That's quite a double standard, Daniel, if that's what you're saying."  
  
"That's not..." Daniel began, but was too far knocked off his moral high horse to make any decent argument. Jack had a point, a valid one, and everyone knew it. Daniel huffed.  
  
"O'Neill is correct, DanielJackson," Teal'c replied sagely. "In my time among your people, I have learned that evil comes in many forms, not all of them in the shape of a Goa'uld."  
  
Sam cleared her throat. "I...I'm sorry for my reaction," she said to Rochelle.  
  
"No you're not," the other woman said, without malice… "And I don't fault you for it. Either of you." She turned to Daniel beside her and caught his gaze, briefly. She knew he knew he was wrong. And in that moment, they all knew once the discussion was over, they need never speak of it again.   
  
Rochelle continued, "I fully admit I've used ruthless means that didn't always justify my ends, no matter how noble my intention. But rest assured Colonel, Dr. Jackson, I am not a cold-blooded killer. I was doing my job and protecting my family. The General empathizes."  
  
Sam looked at him and saw a million emotions flit across his features at once. Understanding, pain, regret. He rarely, if ever, spoke of his life before the Stargate. She knew most of it was painful for him, and that he'd grown beyond it, which was why she had never pressed, never pried, and had no intention of starting. Whatever her own personal morals, Sam knew she could not fault Rochelle her actions unless she passed the same judgment on Jack.  
  
There was a brief but uncomfortable silence before Rochelle spoke, "Unfortunately, my actions had unforeseen consequences. The people we eliminated had powerful friends who retaliated against me." Her voice was gravely sad. "A year ago, my husband was killed in a car bomb meant to teach me a lesson." Unwanted tears bit at her eyes.  
  
Sam's eyes snapped up and met hers. She was stunned by the grief and regret she found in them, and any contempt she held for the woman began to melt away. For his part, Daniel felt like an ass. Although the sting of the argument remained, and while he did not condone mass murder on any scale, he knew there were two sides to the issue, and his heart went out to the woman who had lost her spouse because of who she was and what she did for a living.  
  
Rochelle sighed, as though trying to clear the gloom that had fallen over the room. "After that, I walked away. I just left."  
  
"And they allowed that?" This came from Jack.  
  
"In four years, I had amassed enough Intel on my agency to bring them down nine times over. During the restructuring I was given top level clearance. After all was said and done, I was the only one who didn't ascend into higher echelons of leadership. My superiors are allies, but they knew I had them and had no choice but to let me go."  
  
"What brings you back into the game?" Jack asked. He felt oddly kinned to this girl. Perhaps it was their shared understanding of personal loss. Maybe it was the old soldier in him finding a kindred spirit in someone worn down by a life in black ops.  
  
"After a year in seclusion, I received a phone call. With the mounting pressure on the US about the Stargate, one of my former superiors thought adding me to the list of Europeans joining the program would be beneficial for all parties. She pulled the necessary strings, called in enough favors, and got me a slot."  
  
"She's trying to make up for your husband getting killed," Sam observed.  
  
Rochelle shrugged, but said nothing of it. "I owe it to my fellow Immortals--my family--to discover the nature of our true origin." She turned to Jack. "After I learned what you went through with Anubis and the Ancient repository, I began hypothesizing: the Ancients created the stargates, which contain high concentrations of naquada. One of Earth's stargates was found in the Middle East where the first Immortals are recorded to have lived. What if the Ancients created Immortals as well?"  
  
And the surprises kept on coming. While Teal'c arched another brow, Daniel's brain began spinning rapid fire as he took into consideration Rochelle's hypothesis. It wasn't one hundred percent sound, but what hypothesis was? He began wracking his brain for any archaeological indication the Ancients had created Immortals.  
  
"For what purpose?" Sam suddenly wanted a drink. This was all so much to take in. Secret agencies that killed without remorse, people who could never die; it was insane. Even after all she had seen, it was still difficulty to handle. But then again, she guessed a twenty-two foot high ring that took you to other planets was pretty preposterous as well.  
  
"I don't know," Rochelle confessed. "But I think the answer lies in the General's head." 


	11. Chapter Nine Part Two: The New Girl Expl...

**_Author's Note:_** This is the continuation of the last chapter. I know it was long as it was, and I figured I'd split it up into a "part two" type deal. Rochelle's expositioning more stuff. But I love her, so give me some slack and soon you will too. Thanks to Macisgate for being super prompt.  
  
**_Disclaimers/Spoilers_**: See last chapter.  
  
The briefing room had seen few meetings like this, meetings where one shock and surprise followed another. And for a briefing room in a top secret military base that dealt with interstellar travel, that was saying a lot. Sam's infinitely intelligent brain was trying to process everything. She remembered, somewhere in the blur of the night he returned, the night all the walls came down, the first night they'd made love, that Jack had told her he still contained the Ancient repository in his head. She remembered being briefly astounded by the possibilities but had been immediately distracted. And given everything else that had been going on of late, she hadn't really thought more about it since. She looked around the room to see how everyone else was reacting to this. Teal'c was displaying his surprise by cocking his head slightly and arching an eyebrow. Daniel looked.... confused, the way he did when you showed him a language he'd never seen and didn't know the origins of. Jack, for his part, was gaping like a fish, eyes and mouth wide. Rochelle, the messenger, sat quietly. It was irritating how calmly she was delivering the majority of this information. Sam was surprised they didn't have whiplash from the speed at which Rochelle was lobbing all this new information at them.  
  
Jack sputtered, "Me?"  
  
"Yes," Rochelle confirmed quietly, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.  
  
"But I don't even know what all this stuff in my head means!" he exclaimed.  
  
She nodded, "I know. That's why I'm here. I want to help you decipher it all."  
  
"How?" Sam asked. "It's an enormous wealth of information in a language we understand very little of. Daniel's been studying it for years, and it still takes him a while to figure everything out."  
  
Daniel seemed less than pleased with Sam's not exactly flattering depiction of his Ancient knowledge even though he knew she meant well. He spoke up, "The Asguard have nearly a third of the repository in their computers, and they have yet to figure it out. They don't even know what half of it means, and their knowledge is almost as old as the Ancients."  
  
"But he does know what it means," Rochelle insisted, hitching her thumb at Jack.  
  
"No I don't!" Jack insisted with equal fervor.  
  
"You do too," she replied firmly, like a mother scolding a petulant child. "You just don't know you do."  
  
"Come again?"  
  
Rochelle sighed, and turned to Daniel, "How did you ascertain the repository didn't disappear when General O'Neill revived."  
  
Daniel paused, "The last time Jack...'downloaded' the Ancients' knowledge, his brain began working at 90% capacity, After the Asguard removed it all to keep it from killing him, his brain returned to the usual 5-10% load. When he revived, the doctors ran a bunch of medical tests, including an MRI. The scan showed that his brain was working at 60-75% capacity. We theorized that all the information was still there, but that he had lost the ability to understand it during the healing process, which led to the decrease in capacity."  
  
Rochelle nodded, "I agree." She turned to Jack, "I think you're storing the repository in the part of your brain humans don't use. And without the 'cheat sheet' you had before, the part of you're brain that is always used isn't recognizing it as anything useful."  
  
Jack just blinked and looked at Sam for an explanation.  
  
Sam nodded slowly, taking a deep breath as she tried to explain what she thought Rochelle was saying. "The brain is the most complex and uncharted part of the human body. We only use about five to ten percent of our brains at any given time, but no one knows why. Medical research has been trying to map the human brain for years. "  
  
"Come on, Carter," Jack joked. "You mean to tell me that with all that technobabble gobbledy gook you talk at me all the time, you're still only using ten percent of your brain?" His eyes sparkled mischievously.  
  
"I'm just using it more efficiently, sir," she replied, humoring him. "The point is, the purpose and function of the other two thirds is a mystery."  
  
Jack sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, let's say all that crap is in the unused two thirds of my head. I still don't know how to get at it or know what the hell any of it means."  
  
"That's where I come in," Rochelle replied.  
  
"And how, pray tell?" Jack asked.  
  
"Well, first off, it turns out that I can read Ancient."  
  
Daniel's eyes went wide with shock. "Wait.... what???"  
  
"How?" Sam asked.  
  
Rochelle shrugged, "I don't know. When I began reading the information the General had given both times, I could just--read it. Understand it." Her eyes twinkled with excitement. "Lends credibility to my theory that the Ancients created Immortals, doesn't it?"  
  
"No kidding," Daniel replied, stunned. "I've been trying to decipher it for eight years, and I'm, at best, only a quarter of the way towards understanding it all."  
  
She turned to him, remarking, "Well then we have a lot to discuss, Dr. Jackson, don't we?"  
  
Daniel nodded wordlessly, exchanging glances briefly with Jack. Had she just flirted with him? Jack, however, was no help.  
  
"Okay, so you're our Unabridged Ancient Dictionary," Jack began. "How do you propose I get at any of it?"  
  
"Well," she drawled, pausing as though trying to carefully choose her words. "I'm a telepath."  
  
This meeting should have come with seat belts.  
  
"A what now?" Jack gaped. No one, not even Mac's niece, was going to go digging around in his head.  
  
"Are all Immortals telepathic?" Sam asked, amazed by the possibilities.  
  
Rochelle shook her head, "When one Immortal takes the head of another, all the energy and knowledge of that Immortal is transferred to the victor. Some Immortals, for whatever reason, possess what we call Gifts--among them are the power to control dreams; the power to change one's complete physical appearance, and the power to read the thoughts and feelings of others." She paused, allowing the information to sink in. "In the beginning, I could only read the thoughts of other Immortals. My abilities with mortals were limited only to the empathic. Over time, my abilities extended to mortals as well. I also developed the ability to delve into any mind I wish and extract whatever information I need."  
  
"That's one hell of an interrogation tool," Jack remarked grimly. Rochelle pursed her lips but said nothing, confirming Jack's suspicions that she'd used her abilities as an interrogative tool numerous times.  
  
Rochelle broke the silence in the room, "Since my husband died, I've walled off my ability even to sense emotions. Immediate telepathy would probably overwhelm me right now. But I can build back up to it. Once I get there, I can start extracting the repository. Once we get it all out of your head, General, we can begin comprehending it."  
  
"And you hope to find the origins of Immortals in there," Daniel surmised.  
  
She nodded, "I'm not going to lie; that is my objective. But the possibilities are endless. The defensive, scientific, and anthropological information could be priceless."  
  
"Just wanna help humanity, eh?" Jack teased. She was a good negotiator. In one full swoop, she had just appealed to all four of them, in different ways. Cunning little thing.   
  
"And kick some Goa'uld ass," Rochelle replied cheekily. "I'm all for the ass kicking."  
  
Jack looked at Sam and Daniel, his eyes sparkling devilishly. "See? I told you I'd like her."  
  
Sam merely sighed and rolled her eyes. Daniel shot him a look that said "Riiiiiiiiiiiiight."  
  
"They're humoring me," Jack whispered conspiratorially to Rochelle. "They think I'm really stupid."  
  
"No," Sam began, trading looks with Daniel.  
  
"Not really stupid," Daniel finished, unable to hide his grin.  
  
Jack resisted his urge to stick his tongue out at them, especially after he swore he heard Teal'c snort in amusement. Teal'c! With the snorting! This was a very strange day.  
  
Nevertheless amused by the display, Rochelle continued, "I know my request to keep all this classified initially seemed a bit--odd, but I hope now you understand. Other than my family and the new leader of my former agency, you four are the only people on this planet who know about my telepathy and Immortality. I need that information to stay classified. I was a tempting enough target just by letting my Immortality leak to the wrong people. I'm sure there are even those in your government who would like a crack at me if they discovered it or any of my other hidden talents."  
  
They all nodded in agreement.  
  
"Okay," Jack said. "Everything we just discussed stays in this room. If at any time it becomes apparent that this information goes beyond the four of us, it is on a case by case, need to know basis."  
  
"Just one thing," Daniel said. "Everyone more or less knows that we're getting a member of a foreign government in SG-1. We're going to need a cover story as to where she came from and why."  
  
Rochelle pursed her lips, "The basic story still holds. In the spirit of good faith, the USAF agreed to take a member for the international community into its ranks. I could say I'm MI-5."  
  
"You don't have a British accent," Jack pointed out.  
  
She frowned, "And I don't really have the patience to adopt one for the duration. Hmmm."  
  
"What about Interpol?" Sam suggested. "Then you wouldn't have to worry about any accents. Your own is fairly Gaelic."  
  
"She's not Scottish, Sam," Jack said. He frowned. "Well I mean, 'MacLeod'...." He sighed tiredly, "You know what I mean."  
  
"Gaelic, in this case, means her speaking voice has no discernible European accent, but it's not the American standard either," Daniel informed him.  
  
Glazing right over his gaffe, Jack looked at his friends and colleagues. "Anyone opposed to the Interpol angle?"  
  
"It sounds like a logical explanation, O'Neill," Teal'c spoke up. Ah, they had the approval of the man of few words. "I believe this entire venture to be most beneficial for Stargate Command."  
  
Jack looked around at his friends, his most trusted advisors. Teal'c, the logical Jaffa, the great warrior and increasingly human stoic. Daniel, the wise archeologist and linguist, his brother and best friend, a man who'd lost his wife and his life and was still, in a way, sorting out his path in life. Sam, the beautiful, smart, sexy, kick-ass woman who had been his 2IC for eight years and had now privileged him by becoming his lover, the woman he loved. He trusted them with his life and knew he'd need their help time and again as situations he wasn't prepared to deal with arose during the first months and probably years of his command. He knew, without a doubt, that they'd be there for him every step of the way.  
  
"Teal'c says it's ok," he remarked wryly. "I don't need much more convincing than that, do you?"  
  
Sam smiled. She knew adding Rochelle to SG-1, a team that could survive perfectly well as a three man team, was a somewhat risky venture. They were so ingrained with each other, so embedded, so close, they could practically finish each other's sentences. Rochelle was an unknown to them, as they were to her. Adding her to the well-oiled machine of SG-1 would be like trying to get used to a prosthetic limb after losing an appendage. They had lost Jack to command but were gaining an Immortal telepath. The possibilities and benefits were enormous. It might be bumpy at first, but they'd work it out.   
  
Daniel took a cursory glance at Rochelle out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't sure how he felt about her. He knew, logically, that the pros of her joining SG-1 outweighed the cons. But it was her background in special ops that worried him. She had been trained as a ruthless assassin for a totally autonomous agency. That kind of conditioning didn't just go away. At the same time, he couldn't help but feel overwhelmingly drawn to her. He'd felt it, like a magnetic pull, the moment she'd walked in the room. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt. It wasn't lust; it wasn't desire. It was...odd, unsettling, and irresistible. Perhaps that was why he had an uneasy feeling about adding her to the team. Not that he had a choice. The President had ordered it. Jack, Sam, and Teal'c were for it. Even if every fiber of his being had been screaming for them not to add her, he would have been severely outnumbered.  
  
"Works for me," he replied evenly.  
  
Sam nodded, "Me too."  
  
Teal'c nodded, having already said all he had to say on the matter.  
  
Jack beamed and extended his hand to Rochelle. "Welcome to Stargate Command, Agent MacLeod."  
  
Rochelle returned the smile and handshake, "Thank you, sir. I look forward to serving with all of you." She rose from her seat and extended her hand to Sam, then Teal'c. Daniel was last. "Dr. Jackson," she said amiably.  
  
Daniel held her gaze but did not immediately take her hand. The pull was stronger now than before, and he felt strange, as though he was being lightly tickled from the inside out.  
  
Before he could figure it out and return the gesture, the klaxons began to sound. Davis's voice rang out over the intercom, "Unauthorized offworld activation!"  
  
SG-1 and the base commander exchanged worried glances. Jack turned to Rochelle, who for the first time since they'd met her, looked a bit on edge. Good. She had feathers that could be ruffled.  
  
Jack turned to her and said blithely, "Welcome to the SGC, MacLeod. Hope you're ready to get your feet wet." He turned and jogged from the briefing room, his flagship team directly at his heels. 


	12. Chapter Ten Part One: A Surprise At Ever...

**_Author's Note_**: Okay, I know adding Rochelle to the mix intrigued some of you, and turned some of you off. One person even commented that "Highlander" was an odd choice to do a crossover with. Here's the thing. It's not a crossover, not in the true sense. If this were a crossover, half the Highlanderverse would come schlepping into the SGC and a Quickening would knock the gate out of commission after it was revealed that Kinsey was an evil Immortal....or something. But that's not going to happen. Rochelle is a character I created for the Highlanderverse, yes. But I've only published one of her stories, even though I've written four. And the truth is they all need a lot of work. But I love her. And I think adding her to SG-1 makes for an interesting dynamic. How do you react when one of your team members is infallible? Do you put her at the front all the time to protect everyone else? Do you get emotionally involved with her, knowing she's going to be walking along after you were dust? Just bear with me, and I think you all will love her as much as I do. Thanks as always to Macisgate!  
  
_**Spoilers/Disclaimers**_: None of it's mine. See previous chapters for spoiler warnings.  
  
Four pairs of combat boots and a pair of very expensive high heels ran down the flight of stairs that connected the briefing room to the control room. The gate was dialing in, but the iris was securely in place. Weapons at the ready, soldiers in the control room stood poised to take on whatever might want to come through. The blue light of the wormhole that had established behind the iris cast the gate room with an eerie glow. In the control room, Davis was sitting behind the panel. Red warning lights flashed frantically.  
  
"Report," Jack barked as he entered, SG-1 hot at his heels. Sam sat down beside Davis while Daniel peered over both their shoulders. Teal'c stood, observing the activity, awaiting information. For her part, Rochelle, who had only ever read about the Stargate program, was a bit taken aback by the size of it, sitting just beyond the bulletproof glass.  
  
"We're receiving a signal. It's a text message," Davis reported.  
  
"Daniel, were you playing with my cell phone again?" Jack quipped.  
  
Daniel shot him an annoyed glance, reading the symbols appearing on the screen before them. He frowned. "It's Goa'uld."  
  
This drew Rochelle's attention away from the shimmering majesty of the gate. To look at her in those two moments was to see two utterly different people. Anyone who had seen her looking at the gate for the first time might have described her as an idealist, a dreamer, an optimist. But to watch her jump into work mode, to hear the tone of her voice, one would think her tough, battle hardened, a pessimist who was expecting the worse. "What does it say?"  
  
Daniel squinted, his brain running a mile a minute as he deciphered the alien language. "Um, it's from Camulus, the--"  
  
"The Celtic god of war," Rochelle interrupted. Daniel looked at her and nodded his confirmation.  
  
"I'm not familiar with him," Sam said, fingers flying over the keys as she made sure the iris was holding and no one was trying to blast their way into the facility.  
  
"We've never had contact with him before," Daniel replied distractedly, reading the rest of the message. "Wow."  
  
Jack looked at Teal'c, who had raised an eyebrow, before asking Daniel, "'Wow'? Care to share with the class what 'wow' means this time, Daniel?"  
  
Daniel coughed, "Sorry. It says he wants to arrange a meeting for the purpose of negotiating a treaty." His voice was heavy with surprise and distrust. At his translation, Sam stopped her frantic typing as she ran diagnostics and leaned closer to Davis's screen. Obligingly, he got out of her way. After eight years of things like this, Davis knew when to stay and when to get out of the way. He quietly moved to another terminal.  
  
Jack blanched. "You're telling me some snakehead wants to negotiate a treaty with us?" His disdain was palpable, so much so that, even if she hadn't read up on Jack's well-documented hate for the Goa'uld, Rochelle wouldn't have needed her mental abilities to tell he was preparing to go on the defensive.  
  
Daniel shook his head, "Not just one Goa'uld." His face was serious. "All of them. The System Lords. They wanna send representatives here."  
  
"For what purpose?" Teal'c inquired, stepping closer to join his teammates.  
  
"After what happened in Antarctica, I guess they think that we're finally in possession of superior weapons," Daniel replied. "They no longer see us as inferior but as a people to respect. After the display we put on with the weapon, we're on equal footing with them now."  
  
"We used the Ancients' weapon six months ago," Sam observed. "What took them so long to contact us?"  
  
"After the destruction of Anubis, the reigning System Lord, I suspect there was much fighting and discord among the rest of the System Lords," Teal'c commented. "It is possible it took them this long to reconcile things amongst themselves before turning their attention to the Tauri."  
  
Jack sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Send a message back. Tell Camel Cigarettes--"  
  
"Camulus," Rochelle and Daniel corrected him simultaneously. Rochelle smiled apologetically.  
  
"Whatever," Jack retorted, rolling his eyes at the Doublemint Twins. "Tell him that we'll consider their request and get back too them once we've discussed things with our leaders."  
  
Daniel nodded and sat down at the keyboard to relay Jack's message. It was surprisingly diplomatic considering Jack's feelings towards the Goa'uld and his over all devil may care attitude. The last time they had tried brokering a treaty with the Goa'uld, even without Nirrti's meddling and with Thor's presence, the situation had been tense at best.  
  
Jack turned to the rest of his team, "I need to go talk to the President and let him know what the snakeheads are up to now."  
  
"Uh, sir," Sam said. "It may be best not to refer to the Goa'uld as 'snakeheads' when talking to the President." Her voice was even and professional, but her eyes were gentle. Just by looking at the gaze she was sending him, Rochelle could tell Sam was trying to keep the General calm, reassuring him.   
  
The closeness of this team was comforting to Rochelle. Having not let her mental shields down in quite some time, a team at odds with each other would have been an assault. But with these people, they were so close, so in tune with each other, Rochelle almost could not wait to let her shields down and see what kind of empathic sense of them she got.  
  
Jack rolled his eyes, "Thank you, Carter, I know that." His voice sounded irked, but he gave a fleeting glance, momentary, that conveyed his appreciation of her concern for him. He sighed. "In the meantime, why don't you and Teal'c give Rochelle a quick tour of the base, and get her set up in temporary quarters until we figure out where else we're going to put her."  
  
Sam and Teal'c nodded.  
  
"Also," Jack said to Rochelle. "You should get some BDUs. They're standard issue around here."  
  
"Of course, sir," she replied.  
  
"But," he said hopefully. "You have a choice. Blue or green."  
  
"I'll do my best not to fret over it too long, sir," she replied cheekily.  
  
Jack nodded and grinned and they filed out of the control room. "Daniel, when you're done, come to my office." He sighed. "If anyone needs me, I'll be on the phone to the President." As though the weight of the world was on his shoulders, he turned and ascended the stairs to his office, in which sat the little red phone that had the Oval Office as "1" on speed dial.  
  
He still couldn't believe he'd accepted this job. Why did Hammond have to go and get promoted? Jack would have been perfectly happy going back into retirement after he thawed out. Or staying where he was. Another decoration would have been fine. Hell, even a promotion in rank would have been okay, as long as he wasn't put in charge. What the hell were the joint chiefs thinking, putting him in charge? Surely they had read his record. He was pretty sure his record could be made into a class at the Academy called "Everything I Ever Needed to Know on what NOT to do, I learned from Jack O'Neill." Or something like that.  
  
How the hell had he been deemed "politically viable" by The Pentagon as the "one man who could run the SGC... from an international perspective, despite the fact that he is part of the American military establishment"? Politically viable? He wasn't sure if he was still mentally viable to do this.  
  
Sighing, he pushed the door to his office open and stared at the red phone with disdain.  
  
Several floors below, Sam was getting Rochelle some BDUs, while Teal'c had gone to inquire as to what, if any, quarters were available for her.   
  
"Do you have a place to stay in Colorado Springs?" Sam asked as they walked along the color-coded floor. She had explained to Rochelle when they left the briefing room that the different colored stripes on the floor and doors corresponded to different departments and divisions to make navigating the 28-level underground fortress a bit simpler.  
  
Rochelle nodded, "When I received this assignment, I arranged to rent a fully furnished house. It's nice."  
  
Sam smiled, "You could have rented an apartment, or a shoe box, with all the time you'll be spending here. We practically live here. Teal'c has lived on base for the last seven years, but I think he's been toying with the idea of getting an apartment."  
  
As they rounded another corner, Rochelle remarked, "I think it's incredible how close you all are. Given the amount of time the teams spend together, I would think the only options are abject loyalty and devotion to one another, or absolute disdain, in which case the team perishes."  
  
"Exactly," Sam said, opening a door to what appeared to be nothing more than an extremely large closet. Rochelle stepped in and realized everything was by size. As she browsed the racks of green BDUs, taking her cue from the rest of SG-1's attire, Sam continued. "It's amazing really, how close we all got. And how quickly. Even with Teal'c coming to the team from considerably strenuous circumstances, we all just...clicked really well."  
  
"'Strenuous'?" Rochelle echoed as she slipped behind a rack of clothes to change. "O'Neill convinced Apophis' First Prime to defect. I'd say that's more than 'strenuous', Colonel."  
  
Sam smiled politely, "I suppose."  
  
"How do you want me to address you, by the way?" Rochelle asked. "Since you are now my superior."  
  
Sam paused, then shrugged. "I don't know. You can call me Colonel if you want. Teal'c usually calls me by my full designation, and Daniel just calls me Sam."  
  
"What about the General?" Rochelle asked, plopping down on the floor to lace up her spanking new combat boots. She winced as she shoved her foot into the stiff leather, trying not to think how unpleasant it would be to wear them until she broke them in. "What does he call you?"  
  
"Carter mostly," Sam answered.  
  
"'Mostly'," Rochelle murmured, a twinkle in her eye.   
  
Sam blushed but made no reply. "And what do you want to be called?" she asked, none to subtly getting the subject off her and Jack.  
  
Rochelle shrugged indifferently as she rose to her feet, "Honestly, I respond to pretty much anything other than 'Butthead'."  
  
Sam snorted with laughter, which caused Rochelle to break out into a full on, ear to ear smile, as though she'd just won some kind of award. "Seriously though, you don't have to call me 'Agent MacLeod' all the time. I'll pretty much respond to anything. Shell, Elle, Shelly, Rochelle, Mac. Pick one."  
  
Sam nodded, "Maybe we'll just keep rotating them until we each find one we like." She winked, "But don't be surprised if Teal'c calls you one long name, like AgentMacLeod or RochelleMacLeod. He never calls me or Daniel by one name. It's always 'ColonelCarter' and 'DanielJackson'."  
  
Rochelle smiled and they headed for the exit.  
  
"I guess Teal'c couldn't find any quarters for you," Sam said as they headed down another long hallway that looked exactly like the last long hallway. "I'm sure we'll figure out something. I suppose we could--"  
  
Just then, Jack's voice boomed over the PA. "SG-1 to the Briefing Room. ASAP."  
  
Sam stopped and looked at Rochelle, who was still holding an armful of clothes. "I guess we're just going to--"  
  
Before she could finish, Rochelle dumped her clothes and shoes in a nearby garbage bin.  
  
Sam was stunned, "Or you could do that."  
  
"Please," Rochelle scoffed. "Do you know how much black clothing and how many black shoes I have? I won't even miss them." Then she began walking west down the hallway. "Come on, Colonel, duty calls."  
  
"Yeah, but the Briefing Room is this way," Sam replied, jerking her thumb east.  
  
Rochelle stopped dead in her tracks and sighed heavily. "Damn," she muttered, turning on her heel and walking back the way they'd come.  
  
"Don't worry," Sam said with a chuckle. "You'll figure it out eventually."  
  
Rochelle huffed, "Yeah right."  
  
Teal'c beat them to the Briefing Room and was sitting at the table with Daniel when the two women arrived. Jack, for his part, was once again pacing. The moment the two women entered, he blurted out, "The President has authorized me to pursue negotiations with the snakeheads!"  
  
"I'm sure he said it just like that too," Daniel remarked.  
  
Sam nodded and calmly sat in the seat to Jack's right, beside Teal'c. Once again, Rochelle slid into the seat next to Daniel. "He seems tense," she muttered but not very quietly. Jack scowled.  
  
"Empathy?" Daniel asked, enjoying getting a rise out of Jack, even at a time like this.  
  
"Well that," Rochelle replied smartly. "And the fact that the pacing's a dead give away."  
  
"Funny," Jack shot at the two of them. "Green, nice choice," he remarked a second later as he observed Rochelle's uniform, once again amazing his friends at how random he could be.  
  
"What of the negotiations, O'Neill?" Teal'c asked, bringing the court to order.  
  
"They're happening here again," Jack said with disgust. "But we can't just let them waltz through the gate from whatever God forsaken planet they're coming from."  
  
"So pick a neutral location, a planet of our choosing," Rochelle advised.  
  
Daniel agreed, "Send a team, make sure they're unarmed and then escort them back."  
  
Teal'c nodded, "That seems wise, O'Neill. The System Lords may be in disarray, but they are not to be taken lightly."  
  
"If they accept the terms, it would be a big leap of good faith on their part," Sam observed.  
  
Jack snapped his fingers, "See, this is why I love this team. I was thinking exactly the same thing." Everyone nodded, saying nothing, even though they knew he had been in panic mode moments before and probably had been thinking something along the lines of 'Shit, what do I do now?'  
  
"Who's going to be at the negotiations on our end?" Rochelle asked.  
  
Jack sighed, "Me." He sounded as though he was being forced to walk barefoot across flaming rusty nails.  
  
"That shouldn't be a problem, sir," Sam said helpfully. "You've done it before."  
  
"Again, not by choice," Jack pointed out. "And Thor was here to back me up." He threw Daniel a look that could only be described as pathetically hopeful.  
  
Daniel sighed and took off his glasses, "You want me there too, huh?"  
  
"Ya-huh," Jack replied, nodding his head vigorously. "Come on Daniel," he pleaded. "Leave me in a room for two seconds with those guys, and I'll start an interstellar war." He paused. "We all know I can be a tad.... over-reactionary."  
  
"He's got a point," Sam said a little too emphatically, but Jack was so glad he was getting support on the issue, he didn't notice that she'd kind of dissed him.  
  
"See!" Jack said, wagging a finger in Sam's general direction. "Come on, Spacemonkey, help out your old pal."  
  
Daniel almost growled, much to Rochelle's amusement, "Don't call me 'Spacemonkey'," he sighed, grumbling, "Especially if you want me to help you broker this treaty."  
  
"So you'll do it?" Jack asked nearly gleefully.  
  
But before Daniel could reply, the lights in the Briefing Room, in the entire SGC, in fact, went out.  
  
"Oh for crying out loud!" Jack exclaimed. "What now?" 


	13. Chapter Ten Part Two: Just Another Day a...

**_Author's Note:_** Ok guys, I have a feeling I'm losing ya'll here. I'm sorry for that. To be honest with you, I have no idea where this story is going. Ok, I do, but I have no clue how to get there. The pieces I have figured out I've written, but the connecting chapters? No idea. Please bare with me.  
Also, this is an unbeta'd chapter, as Macisgate is on vacation.  
  
**_Spoilers/Disclaimers_**: Rochelle belongs to me. Everything else doesn't. I'm only borrowing them. Spoilers up through "New Order."  
  
The entire base was plunged into darkness, and only the red emergency lights glowed, casting a menacing pall over everyone. Technicians were frantically pounding away at their computer terminals, trying to figure out why the hell they had no power.  
  
"What now?" Jack barked. His first full day of command was barely twelve hours old, and he just kept getting slammed. A new member of the facility who was way more than she appeared; proposed negotiations with their fiercest enemy, and now a power outage. He was beginning to wish he'd just stayed in bed. With Sam.  
  
She was right behind him as once again they all dashed down to the control room. He could smell her perfume wafting from behind him, teasing his nostrils. He heard her breathing, the hairs on the base of his neck coming to attention. Despite the situation at hand, his mind was beginning to wander more and more to the subject of being in bed with Sam and he had to keep other parts of him from coming to attention as well.  
  
"We just lost all power, sir. I'm getting reports of a wide spread outage, coming from all over the base!" Walter reported the minute they entered the barely lit control room.  
  
"Thank you, Walter, I gathered that," he snipped. Sam brushed a hand over his as she slid into the seat beside Davis, trying to see if she could discern anything. The gesture was subtle, yet comforting, and Jack knew she wanted him to remain calm. She had faith in him and in his abilities. They all did. She wanted him to take a deep breath and _command_, just like he always had. It was still amazing to him, that even with eight years of field experience together, she could convey so much with such a little gesture, at such an early stage in their relationship; in their _romantic_ relationship, that is. If he had the time to stop and think about how well worn their "new" relationship already was, he'd probably be astounded. Unfortunately, he was too busy trying to figure out why the world was going to hell in a hand basket at warp speed. Hyperspeed. Whatever.  
  
Rochelle stepped up beside him, glancing at him out of the corner of her eyes. He tried figuring out the expression that crossed her face as she returned her eyes front, a slight up-turning at the corners of her mouth. Was she _amused_? She found this funny?  
  
"You mocking me, Mac?" he asked, trying out the same name for her he called her uncle. He didn't like it.  
  
She shook her head apologetically, "Not at all sir. I was just thinking it's good to see things are proceeding as normal around here on my first day."  
  
"Sad that this is normal," Daniel muttered.  
  
Jack sighed, "Just another day at the office."  
  
"Indeed," agreed the stoic Jaffa who stood just off to Jack's left.  
  
Then, as abruptly as they had gone down, all the lights came back up, and the entire base sprung to life as electricity once more surged through the twenty-eight levels of the facility.  
  
"Will someone _please_ tell me what the hell is going on?" Jack asked.  
  
"We lost power," Sam replied, sounding confused as her fingers flew over the computer keys. She was running a diagnostic, or something, he was sure.  
  
"Yes, Carter, thank you for restating the obvious," he snarked.  
  
She shot him a disparaging glance that said "_Be patient, asshole"_. Her tone was calm, however, when she reported, "All diagnostics are normal."  
  
"Maybe it was just a power surge?" Daniel said hopefully. "Or a blown fuse."  
  
"For crying out loud, Daniel, Teal'c didn't leave his hair dryer plugged in and then tried to run the microwave! The most secure military base on this planet just lost power and I want to know why!"  
  
"Allow me to explain, O'Neill," came a disembodied, yet familiar voice, from virtually out of thin air. "I unintentionally caused your power disruption."  
  
The airmen in the control room snapped to, drawing their weapons to protect their commanding officer from...thin air.  
  
Jack frowned, looking at his friends, and teammates. "Anyone else think that sounded like..."  
  
"Supreme Commander Thor," Teal'c responded, making Jack glad he wasn't going crazy. Well, any crazier.  
  
The General nodded, "That's what I thought." He looked up. "Thor? Little buddy? Where are ya?"  
  
At his query, a barely discernible holographic image of the Asguard Supreme Commander appeared before them. "O'Neill," Thor's image crackled. "I am pleased to see you survived your encounter with the Ancients and Anubis unharmed. I am sorry we could not do more."  
  
Jack shrugged, "No big. I thawed out on my own. No harm, no foul." He crossed his arms, "Why do I get the feeling this isn't a social call?"  
  
If a four foot tall gray being could sigh dramatically, Jack couldda sworn he'd just seen Thor do it. "You are correct, O'Neill. It is not. The Asguard need SG-1's help."  
  
At that, Sam gave him a worried glance. It was rare that the Asguard came to them for help. And when they did, it was generally for the same reason. Scratch that; Sam wasn't merely worried, Jack realized, as she stood from her seat at the computers. She was terrified.  
  
Looking around, Jack noticed there were a few bystanders, who, while cleared to, well, _be_ on the most secure military base on Earth, weren't cleared to know all everything, including some details of their missions with the Asguard. While all teams were briefed on the foes they had encountered during their relationship with the little gray creatures, the magnitude of their accomplishments--and failures--had been kept closely guarded. With one gruff and decisive, "Everyone, dismissed," and a good number of confused looks, Jack cleared the control room.  
  
Only when they were alone, did he say, "Thor, you're not going to tell me what I think you're going to tell me, are you?"  
  
The hologram flickered. "I am sorry O'Neill, but I must report that--"  
  
"The Replicators have escaped the dilation device," Sam said, her voice full of dread.  
  
Jack sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oy." Yep. _Definitely _should have kept him and Sam in bed today. All warm and cozy and naked and _not_ having the fate of the Universe rest on their shoulders--again. This time, it was his hand that brushed hers in a soothing gesture.  
  
"Indeed, Major Carter," Thor said.  
  
"Actually," Jack said helpfully. "It's Colonel Carter now. And I'm a General."  
  
"That is most exciting," Thor said emphatically. Well, as emphatically as a monotone, difficult to phase, gray alien with big black eyes and a "been there, done that, bought the T-shirt" attitude could.  
  
"What happened?" Daniel asked.  
  
"Unfortunately, I do not have enough power needed to sustain this transmission for the length of time it would take to explain everything to you. Suffice it to say, we are in dire need of any expertise you might have to offer." Thor's black, hollow eyes, however distorted by the bad transmission, seemed almost regretfully, begging.  
  
"Commander Thor, are you near Othalla?" Teal'c asked.  
  
Thor took a minute to consider his answer, eventually responding with a "Yes."  
  
"We have a ship that could get us there in about a week," Sam said, her voice rote and even, all business. Jack knew she was detaching from the situation. Work first. Personal consequences later. Much later. Probably along with a lot of beers, and a bubble bath.  
  
"A week is a great deal of time," Thor said, disappointed. "Unfortunately, I must remain here and keep an eye on the situation at hand. I cannot come retrieve you. And the nearest planet with a Stargate is too far from my current position."  
  
Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his feet. He felt an unfamiliar tugging at his heart and he knew it was something he was going to have to get used to. He had to send his team out, into the field, into danger, risk their lives, and he wouldn't be there to protect them. Wouldn't be there to watch Sam be the brilliant commanding officer he knew she could be. Wouldn't be there and know Teal'c was, as always, watching their six. Wouldn't be there and keep Daniel from getting his ass shot off--again. Having Rochelle on the team should have been somewhat of a comfort to him, but her hard-to-killness wouldn't do them a damn bit of good if the ship got shot out of the sky. And he didn't want to explain to his very old, very hand with a sword friend why she was floating around in another galaxy.  
  
Sam looked at him, and in her eyes, he saw in 2IC looking back at him, not his lover. Even though they were one in the same, Sam had gone frighteningly all business, even though he knew she was dreading what was on the other side of this rainbow. He had a feeling if she clicked her heels three times and got in the Wizard's balloon, she still wouldn't be able to get herself out of this one and back to Kansas the same as when she had left. At that moment, Jack resolved that from here on out, he'd be there for her, no matter how the missions changed her, no matter what happened while she was away and he was sitting behind a desk reading memos and being generally useless. A generally useless General.  
  
His lover took a deep breath, "The modifications you made to the scout ship might get us there in under a week, if we really punch it. But it'll burn out the engines and we'll have no way to get back."  
  
"I will return you all home safely, once the mission is completed," Thor promised.  
  
Jack frowned, "Unfortunately, little buddy, your timing couldn't be worse. We have a rather..._tense_ situation brewing with the Gou'uld. They wanna negotiate. And I run this place now. I can't just go flitting about the galaxy." The last he said with a measurable amount of regret. "And I'm keeping Daniel here for his prowess at the negotiating table." He cracked a smile. "Since _you_ can't be here to help me out."  
  
"I wish you luck with the Gou'uld, O'Neill," Thor said. "Shall I expect to see Colonel Carter and Teal'c in less than a week?"  
  
Rochelle cleared her throat, subtly of course.  
  
Jack huffed, "I'll be sending our newest team member along for the ride too. She gets to play with the big kids her first day out of the sandbox."  
  
If Thor missed the metaphor, he didn't say so. He merely nodded, "Very well. Make haste my friends. There is no time to lose."  
  
And with that the transmission was cut.  
  
"Just another day at the office," Rochelle echoed.  
  
"Indeed," Teal'c replied.  
  
Jack shook his head tiredly and turned to his 2IC. "Colonel Carter, prepare your team. Get your ship ready and be prepared to move out ASAP."  
  
"Yes sir," Sam replied. She motioned for Davis to reenter the control room, and set him getting the necessary wheels in motion to have the modified ship ready and stocked in under an hour. To her teammates, she said, "Gear up. Rochelle, I want you to hit the Mess and tell them we need a week's worth of rations. Standard fare for one of our away missions. They'll know what to give you. Teal'c, get all the necessary medical supplies. When you're both finished, report to munitions."  
  
Rochelle and Teal'c made eerily similar nodding gestures, turned on their heels, and left to perform their assigned tasks, leaving Daniel, Jack, and Sam in the control room.  
  
The moment they left, Daniel felt like the third wheel on Lance Armstrong's bicycle. He cleared his throat. "Well, big negotiations coming up! If anyone needs me, I'llbeinmyoffice." And with that he was gone.  
  
Bless his little linguist heart.  
  
"Davis," Jack ordered. "Call Dr. Weir and tell her that we've had an unexpected delay. My visit to Antarctica is going to have to wait till next week."  
  
Davis nodded and reached for the phone.  
  
Turning to his 2IC, Jack said, "Colonel, my office." He did an about face and retreated up the stairs before she had a chance to argue. But he heard her soft footfalls on the stairs behind him as they climbed wordlessly up to his office. Once she was safely inside, he shut the door and locked it. "You ok?" he asked softly.  
  
"Fine, sir," she replied, staring straight ahead, her eyes unblinking.  
  
He sighed, "Door's locked Sam. No one can hear us." He took a tentative step towards her. "C'mon, it's me here. You don't hafta keep this up for my benefit."  
  
With a heavy sigh, she closed her eyes. He wanted to close the distance between them and take her in his arms, but he refrained. The door may have been locked, but the window between his office and the briefing hadn't turned to lead, and therefore didn't protect them from prying eyes.  
  
"You'll be fine," he said confidently. "I have absolute faith in you." It was all the comfort he could give her.  
  
"We left him there," she said quietly. "I betrayed him. And he's had all this time to dwell on that. He's going to be gunning for me." Hunched over, she leaned against the edge of his desk, arms folded across her chest.  
  
Jack nodded, and crossed the room to lean beside her. "I thought of that. But what else can we do? Thor needs our help." He cracked a smile for her benefit. "Calvary comes to the rescue again."  
  
"Hi-ho Silver," she replied mirthlessly. She turned her head to look him in the eye, and he was taken aback by the fear and regret he found in them. "He could have engineered this entire thing."  
  
"You mean they knew Thor would call us when they escaped?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
He paused, "He's had a long time to think about it. Maybe he got over it, met some nice Replicator chick. Remember Sixth? Or was it Seventh? If you see him, you really should tell him I think he should consider giving them real names. You know. Like Mike. Sue. Jim-Bob. R2D2."  
  
Sam chuckled. It wasn't much, barely qualifying as a full scale chuckle, but it was enough for him. It had made her laugh. Mission accomplished.  
  
She sighed and slapped her thighs, "All right, I'm off to lead my team into a trap."  
  
He took her hand and squeezed it, briefly, hoping to instill in her some of his confidence, and remind her of his love. And it didn't hurt to try to shore up her confidence, either.  
  
"Go get 'em, tiger," he said encouragingly.  
  
She was almost at the door when she turned back and looked at him. "You did these cat and mouse games for so long. How did you survive?"  
  
He shrugged, "I made sure I was outta the maze before the other guy realized he was the cat."  
  
At that, Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter nodded and left her commanding officer's office. He didn't see her again until the ship was ready to disembark. It was going to rise out of another sliding ceiling in the complex similar to the one they'd gotten the Stargates in and out of. As he entered the docking room, he observed Daniel helping Teal'c, Rochelle, and some airmen load the last of the things onto the ship. Daniel and Rochelle paused at the top of the ramp and exchanged a few words.  
  
Jack made his way over to the ship. "No rides for you, Danny-boy. You're Earth bound."  
  
Daniel rolled his eyes at Rochelle and walked down the ramp. "Good luck, guys," he said to his teammates.  
  
"Thank you, DanielJackson," Teal'c answered for them as he emerged from the cargo hold.  
  
Jack held Sam's gaze for a long couple of moments. He searched her face for any of the trepidation he had seen earlier, merely so he could help her banish it. He found none, and felt an overwhelming pride well up inside him. He nodded, and she nodded back, and with those two simple gestures, they said all they needed to say.  
  
"SG-1, you have a go," he said, his voice booming. "Good luck."  
  
"Thank you sir," Carter replied, and led her team into the belly of the modified ship. By the time Jack and Daniel had reached the door of the room, the ship had already risen to the top and was ascending through the hatch doors.  
  
"Wish you were going with them?" Daniel asked quietly.  
  
"Nah," Jack lied. "What's to miss when I've got a crap load of snakeheads to negotiate with?" With that, he turned and meandered out into the hall. Daniel shook his head and chuckled before trotting after his friend, wondering which group of them had drawn the shorter straw this day. 


End file.
